


the cost to cross the sea

by orphan_account



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Carlos is gay and in love with all his friends and Jay bones everyone, Fluff and Angst, Light BDSM, Mal is a disaster bisexual as per always, Morality, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Polyamory, Softcore Porn, There's kinda Ben/Uma in here if you really look, Unconventional Relationship, like very softcore since ya know these are teens and all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-13 06:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It takes her a while to register that she’s in Auradon, and that’s why everything looks so strange. Everything comes back to her: the limo ride, how Dizzy legitimately could not stop squealing and bouncing in her seat, the way Ben’s eyes softened when they met Uma’s. Remembering the way he looked at her, the way he always looks at her, makes Uma’s heart burn with something not quite angry. It’s never pity in his look, like she sees in Fairy Godmother’s eyes, or fear, like she sees in Jane’s. The way Ben looks at her is quiet, and composed, and worst of all, trusting.He shouldn’t trust her. None of them should.





	1. doing the right thing (when it's hard, too)

**Author's Note:**

> I'M TRASH and I love these movies and I love these kiddos. I figured I'd better start releasing chapters of this before the third one is released, so here you go. I'm a chronic multishipper so there'll be plenty of content if you're willing to squint.

Sun is streaming through the thin white curtains hanging in front of the windows. Light pours into the room slowly, like honey. The white walls sing with it, a chorus to welcome the morning. It’s lovely.

 

And it’s wrong, and that’s why Uma is even awake at this hour. There shouldn’t be light in her room. Her room is a glorified closet off of the kitchen of the chip shop, and it has no windows or curtains. Its walls are stinking, rotten wood, nothing like the pristine walls surrounding her now. Everything is too big, too bright, too far away.

 

It takes her a while to register that she’s in Auradon, and that’s why everything looks so strange. Everything comes back to her: the limo ride, how Dizzy legitimately _could not_ stop squealing and bouncing in her seat, the way Ben’s eyes softened when they met Uma’s. Remembering the way he looked at her, the way he always looks at her, makes Uma’s heart burn with something not quite angry. It’s never pity in his look, like she sees in Fairy Godmother’s eyes, or fear, like she sees in Jane’s. The way Ben looks at her is quiet, and composed, and worst of all, _trusting_.

 

He shouldn’t trust her. She told him as much that night, but he smiled in that annoyingly sincere way of his and shook his head.

 

“Everyone deserves a second chance, Uma,” Ben says simply, like it’s truer than the sky is blue. “I meant what I said, back on the Isle. You’re a leader, and I can’t wait to see what you build. What we’ll build, together.”

 

He squeezed her shoulder on “together.” Her skin still tingles where he touched.

 

It’s a couple hours before her alarm is supposed to go off, so Uma lies in bed and stares at the ceiling for a while. It’s a Sunday, which means they don’t have classes until tomorrow. The Auradon people put her in a tower room, a single, at Ben’s request. If it had been anyone else she would have been offended, but Ben wouldn’t insult her by suggesting she be alone for something ridiculous like “safety of other students.” Uma is on her best behavior. Her only weapon now is her brain. All the little princes and princesses in Auradon can never take that from her, at least.

 

Harry and Gil live together in the boys’ dorm, across the hall from Jay and Carlos. The idea is that if they need anything they can just pop across the hall and there will be two familiar faces to help them.

 

These Auradon people are _stupid_. Just because they’re all VKs and they’re all from the Isle doesn’t mean they even like each other, let alone trust each other. Rival schools, rival gangs. Uma supposes it doesn’t matter anymore now, what they were then, but it will take time to unlearn.

 

It will be weird not to be just a block away from Harry. He and Gil’s building is essentially across campus, which is not only a long walk but also very conspicuous if any of them were to try and sneak around. According to Fairy Godmother, it is expressly forbidden for students to be in the residence hall of the opposite gender after the hour of 10 pm. Uma tried not to roll her eyes at that one. First of all, that rule won’t stop Harry and Gil from hooking up _in the room they both live in_ , and secondly, both of them are going to sneak into Uma’s room without hesitation, over and over, guaranteed.

 

She wishes one of them were here now, or both of them. On the Isle, they were all over at each other’s places whatever chance they got. Uma can’t remember the last time she woke up alone.

 

Figuring there’s no point in wasting any more time this morning, Uma gets up to take her sweet time with her morning routine. She stands under the hot water of the shower for what feels like an hour; the water is always cold at home. Her roots feel a little itchy when she gets out, so she spritzes some astringent on and calls it good.

 

She doesn’t know what to wear. Her pirate threads won’t get her anything here, and she doesn’t have much to wear regardless. She throws on some teal jeans, her best shit-kicking boots from back when punk was more prominent on the Isle, and a shredded crop top she made from an old Ursula’s Fish and Chips t-shirt. She’s probably going to get dress-coded for the shirt. Whatever.

 

It’s weird to be eating breakfast, let alone enjoying the fucking _buffet_ offered every morning at Auradon Prep. There are foods here that Uma has never even seen before, so she grabs toast, scrambled eggs, and a cup of coffee and calls it good.

 

Not wanting to deal with interacting with these preppy assholes, Uma opts for a table out on the grass. She has a few precious moments of solitude before bitch supreme Mal shows up and sits across from her.

 

Uma stays silent, staring at her and chewing her breakfast. Mal’s expression is mild but unreadable. Uma wants to launch across the table and rip her purple hair out.

 

“How’s it going?” Mal chirps, smiling a little and fluttering her eyelashes. Uma’s stomach clenches with anger at how attractive she still finds Mal, even after everything.

 

“I don’t have to like you,” Uma says, wasting no time in this conversation she doesn’t want to be having in the first place. “Just ‘cause I’m here doesn’t mean we’re gonna be ‘besties’ now.”

 

Mal smiles and sucks her teeth, clearly trying to keep a lid on her anger. “Don’t, then,” she says, shrugging and crossing her arms over her chest. “In the nicest way possible, Uma, I don’t really care what you do.”

 

Uma raises her eyebrows at that. Maybe this conversation is worth her time after all.

 

“But I’m glad you’re here,” Mal continues. From what Uma can tell, she seems genuine. “We don’t have to be ‘besties,’ but we don’t have to be enemies, either. Not anymore,” she says, more reflective now. “Things are different now. We’re different.”

 

Uma can tell from her tone that she only hopes that it’s true. None of the assuredness that Ben has is in Mal’s voice, and for some reason, that makes Uma smile. Mal misreads, thinking the smile is for her, then looks at something behind Uma.

 

“Your boys are coming from early practice,” she says, raising her eyebrows in their direction. When Uma turns to look, Gil and Harry are walking towards her, both flushed from exercising and wet from their showers. “I’ll let you go,” Mal says, removing herself from the bench and rising to leave. “But, Uma?”

 

“Yeah?” Uma replies, raising her eyebrow skeptically.

 

Mal sighs. “Just, if you ever need anything, let me know.”

 

Mal turns away, and Uma narrows her eyes. What the hell was that all about? The last time she and Mal had a conversation it was less of a conversation and more of a near-battle in the ocean, and that was after Uma spelled her boyfriend and basically tried to ruin her life.

 

“Hey Uma!” Gil says, plopping down next to her and planting a big kiss on her cheek. “What did Mal want?”

 

His cheerfulness is infectious, and Uma shrugs through a smile. “I’m not really sure. It almost seems like she wants to be my friend.”

 

The boys raise their eyebrows and look at each other in surprise. “That’s… unexpected,” Gil says carefully.

 

“How was Swords and Shields?” Uma asks, eager to change the subject.

 

Harry darkens immediately. “It’s mad,” he grumbles, tossing his bag onto the grass and slumping onto the table. “There’s so many rules. Whoever heard of fighting having rules? It’s just fighting, innit?”

 

“Harry wouldn’t take off his hook,” Gil adds quietly, tucking into his French toast. Uma spies five hard-boiled eggs on his plate. “And then he shoved Jay.”

 

Uma laughs, but stops when she sees the look on Harry’s face. “Sorry,” she says. “Why’d you shove him?”

 

Harry scowls. “He called my form weak. Said it was too rough, like I was in a street brawl.”

 

Uma frowns. “That’s kinda screwed up. Why would he say that? He grew up street brawling too. He’s not better than us.” She wanted to cringe at how the last sentence sounded in her mouth. It sounded like a lie.

 

“Gil!” someone behind them called.

 

Gil turned and waved back, excited. “That’s Aziz,” he says, smiling. “We met him this morning. He’s in my second period.”

 

Feeling fond, Uma runs her fingers through his wet hair. “You should go talk to him.”

 

Gil gives her a quick kiss on the mouth and gets up, taking his breakfast with him. Uma stares after him smiling, but when she looks at Harry expecting him to look just as sappy, he looks almost _sad_.

 

“Harry,” she says quietly, laying her hand gently on his. “What’s up?”

 

Harry sniffs and looks at her, wounded. “Gil’s just perfect here, you know? He’s taking to all of it so quickly and I’m…” he pulls his hand from Uma’s, twisting his hook. Uma catches the meaning hidden in his words: Gil is a better person than he is. “I’m just a fucking nutter,” he says, looking away and laughing sadly.

 

“Hey,” Uma says softly, leaning closer. “You’re not crazy.”

 

“No, I- I am,” he repeats, shaking his head. He stares at his hands for a long moment. “What if coming here was a mistake?” he breathes.

 

Uma’s stomach flips. “Don’t say that,” she says quietly. “I worked so hard to get us here. Don’t say that,” she repeats.

 

Harry looks at her and frowns. He can’t apologize because he doesn’t know how, but Uma can see that he’s sorry. And he sits there looking sad for a while. It looks strange on him, especially when they’re not in private.

 

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, for the most part. Ben checks in with the three of them at dinner and helps them find their classes on the maps Fairy Godmother gave them yesterday.

 

That night, Harry sneaks into Uma’s bedroom and kisses her hard in the bright light of the moon streaming through her windows. She feels strange, pinned between him and these soft, clean white sheets. She tastes the sweat on his neck and he whispers her name in her ear over and over and over. The cool, sharp metal tip of his hook drags down her stomach and she arches her back to him, breathing hard.

 

Afterwards, Harry rests his head on her naked chest and clings to her. His skin is scorching hot, but the breeze from the open window is cool on Uma’s skin. Every now and then, Harry kisses her chest softly.

 

“Have you had sex with Gil here yet?” Uma asks suddenly.

 

Harry exhales a long breath and sits up. His skin shines in the moonlight.

 

“No,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t even want to cuddle or anything really. I don’t understand why.”

 

Uma sits with the thought for a minute, then props herself up on her elbows. “Maybe you should talk to him about it,” she says slowly, appraising his reaction. Harry doesn’t react, so she pulls him back down into bed with her. “Stay the night?” she whispers, and he nods into her neck.

 

Harry sneaks out early that morning, before the sun has even risen. He leaves her with a scorching kiss, biting her lip hard enough to swell. Uma smiles at her flush-faced reflection in the mirror. Nice and obvious. This will surely go over swimmingly in Remedial Goodness this morning.

 

Uma cleans up the bun that Harry so thoroughly tangled the night before and calls it good, pulling on a torn black tank top and the same jeans and boots from yesterday. About ten minutes before Uma plans to head to breakfast, she hears a knock at her door.

 

The noise is so unfamiliar she jumps where she stands. It takes her a good few seconds to chill out, then she swings open the door to find Evie standing there, a huge smile on her face and big blue box in her hands.

 

“Hey, Uma!” she says, inviting herself in and setting the box on the bench at the foot of her bed. Uma is suddenly self-conscious about the sheets. “I just brought some things over. I’m designing a new line and we had some leftover samples I thought you might like.”

 

“Oh,” is all Uma can manage to say.

 

Evie turns and smiles at her brilliantly. Uma always thought she was such an Auradon wannabe back on the Isle. She could never understand why Mal fucked with her like that, but now she sees it. Evie is wickedly smart, and ruthless when she wants to be. Loyal, dedicated, charming. She’s a real viper.

 

“Anything you don’t like you can just put back in the box and leave it in the hall. I’ll send Doug to come get it this afternoon,” she says, breezing back towards the door.

 

Uma furrows her brows. “Just… leave it in the hall?”

 

Evie pauses, takes in Uma’s confusion, and her posture melts in sympathy. “Uma,” she says gently, taking her lightly by the wrist. “No one’s going to steal it here.”

 

Uma snatches her wrist back and tries to smile. “Oh yeah, I forgot,” she deadpans. “My bad.”

 

Evie recoils slightly, but remains polite and composed. “Enjoy your classes today. I’ll see you later.”

 

With a flip of her hair and a waft of her perfume, Evie is gone, descending the spiral staircase at the end of the hall. With her gone, Uma closes the door and walks over to examine the contents of the box.

 

A few seconds of digging reveal that there is no way in hell Evie just brought over some leftover samples. Everything is Uma’s size and her colors; these are all clothes that Evie designed especially for her, probably because she knows Uma doesn’t have any. Uma can only clutch the beautiful fabric of a punky short dress and fight back tears.

 

She decides to skip breakfast and just go straight to class instead, too nervous to deal with navigating the ridiculous dining hall before her first class. Only Dizzy is there before her, vibrating with excitement in her seat.

 

“Hey Uma!” she whispers, waving frantically.

 

“Hey, Diz,” Uma responds with a shallow smile, sitting in the double desk next to hers.

 

When the boys show up, Gil sits by Dizzy and Harry sits by Uma. Fairy Godmother organized this class session especially for them, since the other VKs graduated out of the course last semester. It just feels stupid. They transferred them here at the very end of the quarter. What could they possibly learn in the two weeks before spring break?

 

After Remedial Goodness is her History of Auradon class. Just her luck, they’re on their Isle of the Lost unit, and every damn word out of the teacher’s mouth makes her want to leap across the room and deck her in the face. As if she could. Every nervous, preppy eye in the room is trained on her, half of them expecting her to snap and half of them examining her like some exotic creature. If even one of them tries to ask her some bullshit question after class, Uma cannot be held responsible for what happens.

 

Instead of listening to the slightly inaccurate and majorly offensive crap her teacher is saying, Uma pulls out her notebook and jots down some ideas for her council meeting on Wednesday.

 

  * _Revise (or completely rewrite) history textbooks and lesson plans at Auradon Prep_
  * _Change language around villains and their descendants_
  * _Fix the living situation on the Isle of the Lost instead of just moving kids_



 

She continues thinking as she makes her way through the dining hall and sits at her same outdoor table, distracted. Uma pokes at her lunch absently until Gil sits down next to her, straddling the bench, and pulls her into a deep kiss. She laughs into his lips and shoves him away.

 

“What was all that for?” she asks.

 

Gil shakes his head, smiling. “I’m just so excited. My Politics class is super interesting, even though it’s like crazy confusing, and my friend Aziz from S and S is in it with me and he’s super cool and fun, and-” he stops himself, breathing deeply. “I’m just so happy to be here, with you and Harry. I love you so much,” Gil says, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in close to him, sprinkling her face and neck with kisses.

 

“Gil!” she laughs and turns to hug him back, if only so he’ll stop tickling her neck.

 

“I’m gonna head to Internet Safety early,” Gil says, releasing her. “I love you.”

 

Uma smiles and shades her eyes from the sun behind him. “Love you, dummy.”

 

She watches him half-jog across the grass, running into Carlos on his way and stopping to chat. Uma watches them a while longer until a commotion draws her attention away. When she turns, she sees Harry slam Ben into the lockers behind them so hard that Ben nearly loses his balance. Uma shoots to her feet instinctually, but Harry leaves it at that, storming away from Ben with his eyes trained on the grass.

 

Ben winces and rights himself, catching Uma’s eye. She waves limply, a strange sort of apology, and Ben nods, seeming to understand. When Harry reaches Uma’s table, he’s fuming.

 

“Harry, what the hell was that?” she asks, starting to feel a little angry herself. “Why did you hurt Ben?”

 

Harry shakes his head, trying to calm down. “He heard about my first practice. Tried to talk to me about Swords and Shields and I just went all—” he waves his hook around in circles around his head and rolls his eyes.

 

Uma frowns. “You can’t do that type of stuff in Auradon,” she says. It feels strange to be so gentle with him. “Besides, I’m sure he was just trying to help you.”

 

* * *

 

Uma’s affection for Ben is plain on her face, but she’d knock Harry on his ass before she’d ever admit it. He tries to focus on the softness of her feeling to calm himself, and breathes slowly like Gil showed him. Uma isn’t afraid of him, he knows, but he can see tension in her body, waiting for him to snap.

 

She’s right; he can’t afford to be so unhinged anymore. What was a defense mechanism on the Isle only marks him as deviant in Auradon. He has gone from dangerous and powerful to dangerous and useless. Harry doesn’t know how to be.

 

Except for right now. He needs to be calm. His hand grips his hook so tightly his knuckles turn white, but he can feel his heart rate slowing. Harry looks at Uma.

 

“You’re right,” he says haltingly between deep breaths. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

 

Uma’s mouth falls open a little and all she can do is blink at him for a couple seconds. Harry can tell she wants to laugh, her natural reaction to shocking or confusing situations, but she’s holding it in for him. He smiles, and when Uma smiles back he knows he must look quite disturbing.

 

“ _Where_ did you learn to do _that_?” she asks finally, voice quiet in awe.

 

Harry breathes again and feels a sense of legitimate calm come over him. “Gil taught me, a long time ago. Never tried it on the Isle ‘cause it was useful to get angry then.”

 

Uma’s expression flickers for a moment, and Harry regrets his word choice. Makes it seem like she was using him, like he was some rabid guard dog she kept around to scare weaker kids with. It hurts Uma because she can’t even tell him he’s wrong.

 

Something changes in her expression, and she wraps her arms around his middle, kissing his jaw lightly. When she pulls away, she’s smiling.

 

“You’re so good,” she murmurs, looking through him. “Every bit as good as him, and you can’t even see it.”

 

Harry doesn’t have time to ask her what she means before she’s gone, heading to third period at the sound of the ten-minute charm. He rests his hook on his chest. Every now and then his heart feels too fucking big for his body, like it’s swelling and grows so big it crushes up against his ribs and he can hardly breathe. Uma literally takes his breath away.

 

He’s in Discrete Math this period, which Ben explained as nicely as possible before Uma explained it was the dumb kid math class. Harry is fine with that. He knows maths aren’t his strongest subject, but it’s going to make him angry if he can’t understand anything. Gil’s breathing exercises are going to come in handy in the next hour and a half, Harry is sure.

 

He’s right. Harry has never felt more out of place, and it’s much harder than he expected to stay calm when every eye on the room keeps nervously looking at him. He tries to breathe and distracts himself by looking back every now and then, especially at the girls. Boys are less fun to mess with, and Harry doesn’t trust himself not to get into a fight. The girls, however, are all fearfully attracted to him. These Auradon girls love a bit of rough, even though they’ll never admit it.

 

Harry is well aware of how he must look to these sheltered princesses, with his hook, his shredded, sleeveless tops and eyeliner. After all, a dominant love narrative for them growing up was between Belle and “the Beast.” These girls must see crazy, dirty Harry as a bit of a beast himself.

 

Uma will pretend to be irritated by that sentiment later, when Harry tells her, but he knows he’s right. Maybe because she and Harry are both beasts. The only beauty among them is Gil, which is really pretty ironic considering the circumstances.

 

The charm tolls, and before Harry can fully rise from his seat, an extremely short, dark-haired girl approaches him and taps him on the shoulder. Harry is shocked by her touch, grateful that he saw her coming soon enough not to swing on her.

 

“E-Excuse me,” she says, quite shy. “You’re Harry Hook, aren’t you?”

 

Harry only nods, not trusting himself to speak. Something about this girl feels… familiar, for some unsettling reason.

 

“My name is Tiger Peony,” she continues, holding out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Tiger Lily’s daughter.”

 

That’s how Harry recognizes her, he realizes. She has the complexion of her mother, but the pointy, devilish features of her father: none other than Peter Pan himself. He takes her hand and she gives him one firm shake.

 

It was quite the scandal some years ago, the revelation that Peter had not only cheated on Wendy but fathered a child as well. Harry remembers his father raving mindlessly about it several times, something about Peter never growing up after all, as if Hook was some champion of monogamy.

 

Harry figures it’s probably inappropriate to flirt with her, so he tries his very hardest to just be polite.

 

“Hi,” is all he can manage, actually.

 

“I just wanted to tell you a couple of us have a study group going,” she says, gaining confidence. “I thought since you’re joining so late in the quarter that, maybe, you’d want… some help or, or whatever,” she finishes, feigning nonchalance.

 

Harry is so bamboozled for a moment that he hasn’t the foggiest idea of what he’s supposed to say next. Of all the things he was expected Tiger Peony to say, this was not one of them. Wasn’t his father an infernal menace to both her father and her mother? Why would she want him in her study group?

 

Tiger Peony seems to read his mind in the silence. “I’m sorry if it’s strange, or if you don’t want to join because of me and Darling, but—”

 

“Did you say ‘Darling?’” Harry interrupts her, confused. It’s Wendy’s last name, but that can’t be right. “Which Darling?”

 

“Jane,” she clarifies. “Everyone calls her Darling though, so we don’t get the Janes confused.”

 

Harry recalls the bright but sheepish girl shadowing Fairy Godmother and identifies her as the Other Jane in his mind. He nods.

 

“You and Darling are sisters then?”

 

Tiger Peony seems to deflate, and Harry has yet another moment where he realizes he’s broken some unspoken conversation rule. How many fucking rules was he supposed to learn?

 

“Half-sisters,” she clarifies, crossing her arms over her chest. “Look, do you want to study with us or not?”

 

Harry thinks of his own half-sisters back on the Isle, Harriet and CJ, and his sort-of brother Sammy Smee, and wishes he had something good to say to Tiger Peony. Something about how families are complicated, how Harry knows that maybe better than anyone, that she and her family won’t be receiving any judgment from him, but the words won’t string together right in his head.

 

Instead, he just says, “Yeah, alright. Where do you meet?”

 

Tiger Peony relaxes a little. “We meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the second-floor study room of the library,” she says, smiling now. “Do you know where that is?”

 

Harry shakes his head with a small laugh, and Tiger Peony laughs too. It’s a pretty sound, like bells.

 

“I’ll draw you a map tonight, so you won’t get lost. I can even make it look like a treasure map, if that’ll help,” she says with a wink.

 

It takes Harry a second to realize she’s making a joke. “That’s quite funny,” he says.

 

“Thanks,” Tiger Peony smiles, uncrossing her arms. “Well, anyway. What’s your next class?”

 

“Some rubbish called ‘Writing Your Story?’” he says, pulling his schedule out of his pocket.

 

“Oh, me too!” Tiger Peony says. “Want to walk together?”

 

Harry imagines for a moment how frothing mad his dad would go if he knew what he was doing right now, how ranting and raving furious he would be if he knew his only blood son was making study group plans with the children of his mortal enemy. He’d beat Harry blind.

 

“Love to,” he replies, slinging his bag over his shoulder and following Tiger Peony out the door.

 

* * *

 

It’s almost time for bed, and Gil is brushing his teeth when another boy exits one of the shower stalls, towel draped around his waist. His wet hair is dark and messy, and the shadow of a beard peeks out from his chin and jawline. He’s handsome.

 

“Hey,” he says, noticing Gil and walking over. “You’re Gil, right? Gaston’s son?”

 

Gil’s mouth is full of toothbrush and toothpaste. “Uh huh,” he gurgles, leaning over the sink when some of the toothpaste spills out.

 

The boy laughs. “I’m Hunter, son of the Huntsman. You know, the guy who almost killed Snow White?”

 

Something about the way Hunter says it, about the way he’s acting, about the way he’s looking at Gil makes him suddenly very, very nervous.

 

“I know, right?” he says, perceiving Gil’s discomfort. “Hunter, son of the Huntsman. A little on the nose.” He winks. Gil stops brushing. “Look, I’ve seen you and your partners around campus, and, well…”

 

Gil doesn’t know what to think of that. _Partners_ , he said.

 

“Look,” Hunter continues, running his fingers through his wet hair. “My dad’s no villain or anything, but I’m no preppy prince or, or whatever,” he falters, since Gil has not moved hardly at all during this entire exchange. “I’m not like the rest of these idiots. I know you’re not your dad.”

 

Gil’s stomach flip flops. The words are nice, but again, something in the way Hunter says them… Gil almost feels _scared_.

 

“Well, anyway. See you around, Gil,” Hunter says finally, pushing open the door and exiting into the hallway.

 

Gil spits and hurries back to the room he shares with Harry. He enters in a rush, and Harry alerts immediately.

 

“Alright there, matey?” he asks, rising from his bed and joining Gil by the door.

 

“I, yeah, I’m good,” Gil says quickly, shaking his head. “I just met, like, this weird guy? In the bathroom?”

 

Harry frowns, but his eyes twinkle with mischief. “A ‘weird guy?’”

 

Gil shakes his head again. “His name is Hunter. He started just randomly talking to me about how his dad almost killed Snow White? Or something? Like, fresh out of the shower, fully naked, _while_ I was brushing my teeth.”

 

Harry raises his eyebrows, smiling for real now. “Naked? No towel?”

 

“No, he had a towel,” Gil laughs, pushing Harry’s bare shoulder gently. Harry’s joking makes Gil feel a little better, but it’s still hard to shake the unsettling feeling his interaction with Hunter gave him earlier.

 

“I bet you wished he didn’t,” Harry murmurs, and the atmosphere in the room shifts, growing heavier and hotter. Gil’s breath catches in his throat as Harry steps closer to him slowly, feeling the heat radiating from his shirtless chest.

 

Harry’s hand snakes around Gil’s waist and he pulls him in close, pressing their hips flush together and catching his mouth in a harsh kiss. Gil leans into him, grabbing the hair at the base of Harry’s scalp and tugging. Harry laughs and drives Gil backwards until he’s pinned against the wall, his hand and hook roaming all over Gil’s body. Blood rushes in Gil’s ears and his face feels hot. He can’t keep himself from moaning, and Harry bites his lip hard.

 

“Stop,” Gil gasps, pushing Harry off of him. Harry steps back immediately, hair sticking out wildly and lips looking very pink.

 

Harry says nothing, just looks at Gil confused.

 

“I’m… why are we doing this?”

 

Gil didn’t even realize that’s what he was going to say until he said it, but now that he has, he realizes what’s been bothering him ever since they got to Auradon.

 

“I don’t understand,” Harry says slowly, brows drawn together.

 

Gil breathes deeply, summoning courage. “I mean, why are we doing… _this_.  Kissing, and stuff,” he says, feeling shy for some reason. “It’s not like it was on the Isle. We were together because—”

 

Gil hesitates, not wanting to hurt Harry’s feelings, even though what he wants to say is true. On the Isle, Gil was protected because he was involved with Uma and Harry. Uma was much worse at hiding her feelings, though Gil would never ever say that to her face, so it was sort of easy to see that she really did like Gil. Harry was much harder to read, at least for Gil. Uma dominated both Harry and Gil, and Harry dominated Gil. It was about power and protection and status and how dangerous you were. All those tools were useless here. Auradon kids didn’t understand power like they did.

 

“I don’t need you to be dangerous for me anymore,” Gil finally says, looking away. He feels shame. “No one is going to mess with me here if you don’t claim me, so… I just don’t know what this is supposed to be about anymore.”

 

Harry’s expression is unreadable, and he says nothing.

 

“Why do you want to kiss me, Harry?” Gil asks softly, meeting his eyes again.

 

Harry’s expression twists, and it’s obvious this question is hard for him. He thinks for a long time, tightening his hand around his hook.

 

“I’ve… I’ve always liked to kiss you, Gil,” he says slowly, still thinking hard. “Even when I was protecting you, or claiming you, or… whatever. That was part of it, back on the Isle.” Harry steps toward him. “But you’re right. It’s not like it was on the Isle. Now I don’t have to think about protecting you, or about acting for everyone else a certain way. Now I just get to have you.”

 

Gil’s heart swells and for a second he feels like he can’t really breathe.

 

“And I want to have you,” Harry continues, closing the distance between them and resting his hand on Gil’s elbow. “It weren’t only about all that stuff. I like kissing you. I like _having_ you,” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper.

 

Gil leans into him until all he can he is the blue of Harry’s eyes. “Even if we weren’t trying to survive—even if I didn’t need your help, I still would have wanted to kiss you, Harry. I still would have wanted you to have me,” he breathes.

 

Harry’s expression softens. He looks happy and sad all at once. This time, when he pulls Gil into his embrace, it’s slow and purposeful and soft. He says everything his words couldn’t with his body now, pulling Gil back to their bed which they made by pushing their twin beds together.

 

They spend the rest of the night kissing and snuggling, enjoying each other’s company for no other reason than because they can. It feels different, and even though that’s a little scary, it also feels really good. Gil feels almost like he’s been holding his breath for the past few days, and now he can finally breathe out. He falls asleep in Harry’s arms.


	2. my love for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil makes a friend (?), Carlos is gay, Mal is having a crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I'm very excited about this story and I hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment or a kudos if you like, I love seeing your feedback!

When Gil wakes up, he forgets where he is. Everything feels the same until it doesn’t. Harry’s arm around his waist is right, the sunlight shining in his hair is right; the size of the room is wrong, the smell is wrong, the lock on the door is wrong. It’s all wrong.

 

Is this what prisoners feel like when they get to be free for the first time? He feels like a rat that’s lived its whole life in a cage, finally free but with nothing to do and nowhere to go. How many mornings will he wake up this way? How long until he wakes up and knows he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be?

 

“G’morning, beautiful,” Harry whispers into Gil’s hair. Gil can hear the smile in his voice.

 

Gil rolls onto his side and kisses Harry with morning breath. It feels… nice. Comfortable. Safe.

 

“You should go to breakfast,” Harry murmurs, snuggling in to the bed. “I won’t be up for a while.”

 

Gil sighs and kisses Harry’s forehead. “Okay, just don’t be late for class, please.”

 

Harry just groans into the pillow and waves his hand, knocking Gil in the chest.

 

“Stop it, you big baby,” Gil laughs, jabbing Harry in the ribs and leaping out of bed before he can retaliate.

 

When he’s in line for the dining hall, he scans the cafeteria for Uma and doesn’t see her anywhere, so when he gets his breakfast he sits at their usual table and eats. His heart leaps a little at the thought that they have a _usual_ table. It’s sort of like claiming a turf, but without any bloodshed. Gil can get used to this.

 

“Hey!” Aziz calls, waving at him from across the lawn.

 

Gil smiles and waves back, struggling to finish chewing in time to say hello when Aziz gets to the table.

 

“Good morning, man, how’s it going?” Aziz asks, setting his tray down and sitting across from Gil.

 

Gil nods. “S’good,” he says around the last bites of his eggs, swallowing hard. “You?”

 

Aziz smiles, and he looks bright and brilliant and handsome. “Better, now that I’ve seen you,” he says smoothly, leaning forward over the table so his arm flexes in front of him.

 

“Oh,” Gil says, feeling a blush creeping up his neck. Is Aziz… flirting with him?

 

“Excited for Politics today?” Aziz continues, crunching into his apple. Gil watches his Adam’s apple bob. Aziz has very long eyelashes.

 

Gil nods. “Yeah, uh, yeah. I didn’t really get the reading though.”

 

Aziz laughs a little, shaking his head like Gil just said the cutest thing he’s ever heard. “Don’t worry about it, Gil. Whatever you don’t pick up during discussion we can go over later, if you’d like.”

 

Gil doesn’t know what to say. Does he say yes? He definitely needs the help, but would that seem like he was accepting some unspoken invitation? What would it mean if he did? What does it mean if he wants to?

 

“I… thanks, Aziz,” Gil replies finally, smiling back at the boy across from him. Aziz has a great smile.

 

“Gil.”

 

Uma’s voice interrupts Gil’s daydreams. She sounds harsh, harsher than he’s heard her since the Isle. Aziz sits back immediately, withdrawing his flexed arm and sitting up uncomfortably straight.

 

“Oh, hey Uma,” Gil says gently, holding out his hand to her.

 

She doesn’t take it. She doesn’t move at all, actually, just flicks her eyes back and forth between Gil and Aziz.

 

“Morning, Aziz,” she deadpans before stalking away, tossing her breakfast, tray and all, into the trash can.

 

Gil sighs and covers his head with his hands. Shit.

 

“Shit,” Aziz whistles, shaking his head. “Gil, I’m sorry if that was my fault, but damn. She’s a firecracker, huh?”

 

“More like a tropical storm,” Gil says quietly, smiling a little. “I’m worried about her. She won’t say it but I know she’s nervous about the council meeting tomorrow.”

 

“Ah,” Aziz nods slowly, stroking his chin. “My dad’s on the council. I could, I don’t know, tell him to go easy or something?”

 

“No!” Gil shouts, half standing in alarm. Aziz doesn’t even flinch, which somehow makes him even more attractive. He shakes his head. “I, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Just, please, don’t talk to your dad. Uma would flip if she found out I said anything.” He sighs. “I always say too much.”

 

Aziz frowns, leaning across the table again. “Whoa, Gil, it’s okay. I won’t say anything. You didn’t say too much.”

 

Gil can’t say anything, so he stares at his hands.

 

“Are you and Uma together?” Aziz asks finally, looking as serious as Gil has seen him yet.

 

Gil is surprised. Why is it that he can talk and talk when he shouldn’t, but when someone asks him a question, he forgets how to speak altogether? He takes a long drink of his apple juice.

 

“Or are you and Harry together?” Aziz continues, looking around like he’s thinking. “Because you guys seem to have that vibe too, which, hey, I’m not judging, but uh…” He laughs, rubbing his neck. “Well, I think you’re handsome.”

 

Gil chokes on his juice, splashing some of it onto his shirt. Aziz only raises his eyebrows, and then the ten minute charm sounds.

 

“Gotta go!” Gil chokes, scrambling to free himself from the table. He rushes away without looking back, dumping the rest of his breakfast and placing the tray in the return slot.

 

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid! Now Politics is going to be _so_ awkward.

 

* * *

 

 

Carlos feels Evie before he sees her. She breezes into AP Calculus like a bright, beautiful cloud, bringing the sweet floral scent of her perfume with her as she leans across her desk to place a gentle kiss on Carlos’ cheek. He blushes and touches the place where her lips touched him; it always makes him feel special to get a kiss from Evie. She saves them only for the VKs, and for Doug, of course.

 

As per always, Evie’s arrival is almost exactly a minute behind the final charm, and Grumpy strides into the room just before the last toll. He looks particularly sour today, and Carlos sighs.

 

He shamelessly zones out for most of class almost every day. No matter how he tried to explain, how desperately he begged for his counselors to give him more challenging material, the Auradon faculty told him to “just try” in his current classes before they would agree to move him up. It’s almost the end of the year, and here Carlos is, still bored out of his mind in classes that are too easy. Oh, well. There’s always next year.

 

The sun is shining brightly outside, and the grass is almost glowing with the sunshine. Carlos closes his eyes and imagines how the grass would feel if he were to lie there, flat on his back, with his friends in a circle beside him. The blades tickle his ears and neck. Sunlight feels warm on his skin, and Evie’s hand is in his. He runs his finger over hers, feeling her neatly manicured cuticles and the thick, smooth polish that he knows right now is red. Carlos feels small and so big, all at once.

 

And then Ben is there for some reason, and he reaches for Carlos’ hand. He’s wearing his lightest blue button-down, Carlos’ favorite, the one that makes his hair look almost honey-blond. Ben smiles and the scene feels impossibly brighter.

 

Ben pulls Carlos to his feet. When Carlos asks if Ben is there for Mal, no sound comes out of his mouth. Ben shakes his head, somehow hearing him anyway, and keeps holding onto his hand. Carlos’ palms do not sweat as Ben pulls him forward into a kiss because this is his daydream and he only keeps the bodily functions that aren’t embarrassing.

 

The charm sounds, echoing down the ornate halls and knocking Carlos out of his daydream. His eyes fly open and he looks at Evie, irrationally fearful that she can somehow read his mind and knows what he just saw. A knowing twinkle shines in her eyes and she winks at him, sweeping her books into her bag in one graceful movement and rising to leave, knowing Carlos will follow. His skin feels too tight.

 

He risks a glance at Grumpy and sees his teacher glaring at him disapprovingly. Wincing, Carlos gathers his things in a hurry and rushes out of the room. Grumpy knows Carlos doesn’t focus in class—not like he’s trying very hard to hide it—but because Carlos aces nearly every test, there isn’t much he can do except disapprove. Carlos can deal with that.

 

“Hello, my little space-case,” Evie sing-songs when he meets her in the hallway.

 

Carlos rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

 

“I’m just jealous. I can’t afford to do anything but work in that class,” Evie says with a sigh, leaning against the wall of the water fountain alcove where their friends like to gather.

 

“Oh please,” Carlos says with a smile. “I’ve seen your grades, you’re doing great in that class. Plus, Grumpy doesn’t hate you, which is pretty impressive.”

 

“Yeah, but only because I have to study like a maniac just to keep up,” Evie replies, crossing her arms. “No daydreams for me.”

 

They smile at each other for a moment.

 

“What were you thinking about today?” She asks.

 

Evie always takes interest in his daydreams, perhaps because she wants to experience them vicariously. He doesn’t always tell her; sometimes, they’re embarrassing or personal or just plain weird. Today’s was nice, though, or at least the parts where he wasn’t making out with the King, aka Ben, aka their best friend’s boyfriend.

 

“I was just thinking about how beautiful it is outside today,” Carlos says. “I pictured the four of us in the grass together.” He need not clarify who “the four of us” includes.

 

Evie’s smile rivals the bright sun outside.

 

“And I thought of your nails, and how pretty they look today,” Carlos adds, taking her hand and examining the same finger he imagined in class.

 

Evie laughs and places a hand on his arm. “Oh, stop, that’s so cute.”

 

Carlos shrugs, but he can’t wipe the smile from his face. “You wanted to know what I was thinking about, I’m just reporting the facts.” Well, some of the facts.

 

“Excited for spring break? I think Ben’s beach house is going to be _so_ amazing,” she gushes, her smile deepening.

 

Carlos’ stomach tightens and, involuntarily, he shrinks. Evie notices the shift immediately, and her smile falters.

 

She opens her mouth, about to ask a question, then relaxes like she answered it herself. “You’re worried… about Jane, aren’t you?”

 

Carlos slumps and leans against the wall with her, burying his face in hands. “Yes,” he mumbles through his fingers, the sound coming out as jumbled and confusing as the feelings swirling around in his chest.

 

The plan for spring break, as it is right now, is this: Ben, Mal, Evie, Doug, Jay, Lonnie, Carlos, Jane, and, of course, Dude are going to spend their week off at Ben’s parents beach house at Belle’s Harbor. Jay not-so-reluctantly flexed his stealing prowess again by slowly sneaking booze from several different friend’s parents’ bars over the weeks in preparation. They made these plans ages ago, like right after Cotillion, but…

 

Carlos had been _so_ excited to date Jane. Unspeakably excited, really. Any time he thought about it too hard he would get all sweaty and twitchy and have to move or do _something_ or he’d start to freak out.

 

Jane was unquestionably attractive, at least to Carlos. She had beautiful blue eyes, a sunny smile, and a work ethic to rival Evie’s. She was smart, kind, and responsible, but above all of that, she was always working to serve and help other people. Plus, she was nice to Carlos and the other VKs way before anyone else was. She saw them all for what they were: different, not necessarily bad, and that was much more important to Carlos than anyone ever knew. Jane knew what it felt like to live outside from everyone else, to feel like she didn’t belong.

 

Maybe that’s why he thought it would work out. They had had _such_ fun dancing with each other at Cotillion, and Jane had said all those nice things about him. But she introduced him to her _mother_ as her _boyfriend_ , like, right away. After that, she was texting and calling him all the time and wanting to spend time with him and, and…

 

Carlos has no excuse. He just… got scared. They went out once after Cotillion, and when Jane kissed him something inside burst open but in a _bad_ way. It felt like a great dam had broken, and the water was cold and coursing and drowning him and he just about ran away from her afterwards. He had to get away.

 

Of course, there was absolutely no chance that Carlos’ repeated fantasies of kissing Ben had anything to do with it. The same fantasies where they would kiss and Carlos’ chest would fill up with so much light he could barely breathe. No chance.

 

And so, he ignored her. He just straight up ignored all her messages and calls until she eventually gave up. Now he’ll see her on campus, shooting him forlorn, longing looks before hanging her head and rushing away. They haven’t actually spoken in months.

 

“Maybe you should talk to her, Carlos,” Evie says gently, pulling him out of his emotional spiral to look at her. “I know Ben would be fine if you wanted him to ask her not to come.”

 

Carlos groans. “No, that’s so unfair. I can’t ask Ben to do that, I can’t ask her not to go, but I _can’t_ go talk to her Evie. She’s way too sad.”

 

Evie sighs and smiles sympathetically. “Carlos, it’s okay. Listen, Jane was talking to me and Mal about it the other day. She isn’t mad.”

 

That confuses Carlos. “Wait, really? She’s not?”

 

“Yeah,” Evie says, her hand coming to rest on his forearm. “I mean, she was really hurt that you ditched her but she said she understands. It wasn’t a surprise.”

 

Carlos frowns, and the look on Evie’s face tells him this conversation is not going according to plan. “Wasn’t a surprise? What does that mean, not a surprise? Why wasn’t she surprised?”

 

Evie opens her mouth to reply, then closes it again and studies Carlos’ face like she’s confused. She’s about to speak again when Jay and Lonnie show up and Jay slings his arm around Evie to pull her into a sloppy hug.

 

“What’s up, burnouts?” he says fondly, planting a kiss on Evie’s blue hair.

 

Jay and Lonnie aren’t exactly “dating,” but they are “together,” whatever that means. Carlos knows that Jay still flirts with other girls at parties, still ends the night with his lips locked with someone else, hickeys hiding under his collar from mouths that aren’t Lonnie’s. Carlos catches glimpses of them sometimes, marks shiny and angry and red, and imagines placing his own lips over them, how Jay’s soft skin would feel hot under his mouth.

 

When Carlos returns to reality, all three of his friends are looking at him expectantly.

 

“Huh? Sorry, I was spacing out,” he says hurriedly, fighting the blush on his cheeks.

 

Jay rolls his eyes. “I asked if you’ve seen Mal today.”

 

Carlos frowns, thinking. “No, actually, I haven’t. I didn’t see her at breakfast. Is she okay?”

 

Jay frowns. “I don’t know. Ben asked me after the captains meeting this morning if I knew how she was doing. He said he’s worried she’s avoiding him lately,” he reports with a sigh, shaking his head. “The more people I ask, the more it seems like she’s just avoiding _everyone_.”

 

“Really?” Carlos says, crossing his arms. “That seems weird. I thought things with her were okay, after Cotillion.”

 

“So did I,” Jay says. He looks sad.

 

“It’s almost time for class,” Lonnie says, checking her phone. “We should head out. I’m sorry about Mal, guys. I hope you find her.”

 

Carlos waves as Lonnie and Jay depart. The three-minute charm sounds as they leave, and Carlos realizes that Evie has been awfully quiet.

 

“You okay?” he asks quietly, trying to meet her eyes.

 

“I’m worried about Mal,” she whispers. “I thought things would be okay after Cotillion, and I think they were for a while, but now…”

 

Carlos frowns. “Do you think it’s because of the other VKs coming here?”

 

Evie shakes her head. “No. She was excited about it. She texted me saying she had a really good conversation with Uma yesterday.”

 

“Uma?” Carlos repeats, shocked.

 

“I know!” Evie says. “I couldn’t believe it either. There’s just no obvious reason that she would be isolating like this.”

 

Carlos checks his watch and swears. “We gotta go. Look, I’ll see Mal next period. Let me try and talk to her, okay?”

 

Evie pulls him into a hug. “Thank you, Carlos.”

 

He kisses her cheek and releases her so they can both rush to class. He makes it to Language and Composition just in time, sliding into his seat as the last late charm tolls. Mr. Darling gives him a little disapproving look before beginning the lesson for today.

 

Carlos takes a deep breath and takes a second to calm down before he scans the room and realizes Mal isn’t there. Her spot at the back of the room is empty, but in the seat next to hers is Ben, looking seriously distressed. Ben’s eyes meet Carlos’ and for a second he can’t breathe. Ben looks like he’s sending him some desperate message with his eyes, but Carlos turns around, afraid of being yelled at for not paying attention.

 

The second Darling lets them break into pairs to review each other’s essays, Carlos practically jumps over the desks to get to Ben before Chad.

 

“Sorry man, we’re already partners,” he says, landing in Mal’s empty seat gracelessly and shrugging at Chad, who grumbles and wanders away to work with someone else.

 

“Thanks for sparing me from reading his essay,” Ben jokes half-heartedly, the smile on his face looking as weak as his voice sounds.

 

Carlos winces. “Not like mine is gonna be any better.”

 

The classroom fills with chatter while the boys read each other’s essays. Carlos can’t focus, so he drops the paper to his desk and leans into Ben. He tries to ignore how good his cologne smells, how the sunlight shines in his hair like gold, how beautiful and green his eyes are from this close.

 

“Ben, are you okay?” he says in a low voice. “Is something going on with Mal?”

 

Ben sets Carlos’ essay on his desk with shaking hands and rakes his fingers through his hair, his distress obvious.

 

“No,” he says, looking as sad as Carlos has ever seen him. “I have no idea what’s going on. I’m so scared every day that I’m gonna lose her.”

 

Awfully, selfishly, _evilly_ , Carlos allows himself a moment to entertain the fantasy that Ben and Mal break up so that he can have Ben, just as he has wanted since the first day they met and Ben brought his fingers to his lips to taste the chocolate on Carlos’ hands. Carlos stops himself before he can imagine licking Ben’s fingers.

 

“Ben, I’m sure everything is okay,” Carlos lies, clapping a hand on his back like he’s seen Jay do a thousand times. “I can go look for her during lunch if you want.”

 

The relief that floods over Ben is so profound Carlos can practically feel it rolling off of him. “Oh, thank you, Carlos. I’m just so busy with all this planning for the council meeting with Uma, and- ugh thank you so much,” he says, taking Carlos’ hands in both of his and clasping tightly.

 

Carlos feels his cheeks flush and nods, extracting his hand. “No worries, Ben, really,” he says, looking away. “But we should probably actually read each other’s essays before Darling calls us back to class.”

 

Ben laughs, and Carlos allows himself to feel a little relief too. “You’re right. Thanks again, Carlos. You’re a good friend, to Mal and I both.”

 

Carlos just smiles and tries to ignore the burning in his chest. Ben wouldn’t be saying those things if he knew the truth, if he knew how selfish and awful Carlos really was.

 

The boys read each other’s essays, offer feedback, and Carlos returns to his seat. Ben is an amazing writer. Carlos tries not to feel embarrassed by how many suggestions Ben offered for how Carlos could fix his paper.

 

When he’s back in his seat, they start to discuss the readings from the textbook they were assigned last night. Carlos read them, but he’s too distracted to participate, so he pulls out his free writing notebook and flips through the pages.

 

Carlos is awful at academic writing, but he loves to scribble in this notebook about whatever he’s thinking about. It’s really good stuff, he thinks, but it’s not like he’d ever show it to anyone. His most secret thoughts, his deepest desires, his most precious feelings are all contained within the pages of this red and black battered notebook. Showing it to anyone would be like showing them his brain.

 

He flips to a page that he has dog-eared. It’s a piece he wrote about Ben.

 

_his nervous smile on rose petal lips_

_his hand in mine_

_king’s hands, soft, no hurt there._

_he releases me_

_brings his fingers to his lips and licks_

_it’s sweet, he says in a honey voice_

_he licks again_

_i take his fingers into my mouth and suck_

_he licks the chocolate off of my lips_

_i open my mouth and let honey pour in_

 

 

The charm tolls and Carlos practically jumps in his seat, slamming his notebook closed. Ben looks at him in surprise and he flushes again, remembering how he had agreed to look for Mal. He opens his mouth, maybe to say goodbye to Ben, maybe to say something stupid, but he shuts it before anyone gets to find out and hurries out of the room, heading straight for the dining hall.

 

He’s almost there when he is intercepted by Dizzy. The middle school breaks for lunch at the same time as the high school, so she is evidently there to visit with all of them. Despite needing to find Mal, Carlos can’t help himself but stop and talk to her for a second.

 

“Carlos!” she cries excitedly, rushing towards him with outstretched arms.

 

“Hey, Diz!” he says, opening his arms and lifting her into the air in a big hug. At one time, they were about the same size. Carlos hadn’t realized how much taller and stronger he’s gotten in the past few months.

 

He sets her down and she looks so excited she looks like she’s about to vibrate through the floor.

 

“How are your classes going?”

 

She beams. “Great! I love it here so much,” Dizzy says, spreading her arms and spinning in place. “I’m having a little trouble in my Algebra class, though.”

 

Carlos checks his watch discreetly and winces. “That stinks. Tell you what, I’m a little busy right now, but if you need help later I’ll definitely tutor you any time.”

 

Dizzy is elated. “Would you really? That would be so awesome, Carlos!” she says, hugging him again.

 

He laughs and pulls out of her arms. “No worries. How about you go find Evie? I’m sure she’s dying to see you.”

 

Dizzy just nods vigorously before sprinting off in the other direction, hunting for her role model. Carlos shakes his head. Where that girl gets all that energy, he doesn’t know. He sets off through the cafeteria, scanning the crowds for Mal.

 

After a few minutes of searching, he almost literally runs into Chad, who wasn’t paying attention.

 

“Whoa, jeez, Chad!” Carlos huffs, dodging him just barely.

 

Chad spins around and notices him, finally. “Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.”

 

“Yeah,” Carlos says, rolling his eyes. Chad actually really bothers him, not that he’d ever let anyone know it. Besides his dearth of personality, he’s also broken into Carlos’ rooms so many times he started to expect coming home to Chad printing something stupid on his 3D printer. It happened so often Carlos was avoiding going home, which is ridiculous and unfair. The first time in his life Carlos has his own space and someone comes to steal it.

 

Chad looks at him quizzically. “What are you doing, wandering around?”

 

As long as this idiot is here, Carlos might as well use him. “I’m looking for Mal,” he says, taming his hostility. “Seen her anywhere?”

 

Chad thinks for a second. “Oh, yes I have, actually. She was heading back to the girls’ dormitories.”

 

Carlos blinks in surprise. “That… was actually helpful, Chad. Thank you,” he says in surprise, stepping past Chad quickly and heading for the girls’ building. Out of the corner of his eye he catches Chad waving at him. What an idiot.

 

He strides down the hallway just in time to see Mal and Evie’s door swing shut in a hurry, a flash of purple hair barely visible through the closing door.

 

“Mal!” Carlos says, hustling the last few steps to their door.

 

No response. He knocks on the door, his heart lifting a little at the _Evie’s 4 Hearts_ sign hanging from their door number. Four hearts, one for each of them.

 

“Mal, please open up,” Carlos says to the crack in the door.

 

“Can’t talk right now, sorry!” Mal’s voice calls, muffled through the door.

 

Carlos sighs. “Why are you hiding in your room during lunch? Why weren’t you in class? Can you please just let me in?”

 

He waits in silence for several moments before the door flies open and Mal drags him inside, closing the door swiftly behind them. She lets go of him immediately, going to pace in the middle of the room.

 

“Mal, _what_ is going on with you?” Carlos asks, exasperated. “Why are you avoiding everyone?”

 

Mal groans and buries her face in her hands. “I’m such a disaster, Carlos.”

 

Carlos doesn’t protest. He knows she needs to take her time.

 

“I’m just so worried about everything,” she continues after a while, taking her elbows in her hands. “The new VKs are here and I’m worried about Dizzy all by herself in the middle school. I’m worried about Harry killing someone in Swords and Shields, I’m worried about Uma killing _me_ , I’m worried about her first council meeting, I’m worried about my grades, I’m worried about Ben— “

 

“Mal, Mal, slow down,” Carlos soothes, stepping closer to her with his hands outstretched. “Take a deep breath. Let’s go one thing at a time.” Carlos takes a deep breath too, and does something selfish. “Why are you worried about Ben?”

 

Mal doesn’t look at him for a second, then starts crying. “I just feel like he’s pulling away from me.”

 

Carlos frowns. “What are you talking about?”

 

Mal shrugs. “I don’t know. He feels far away from me, but that’s not the problem.”

 

“What is the problem, then?” Carlos asks, barely breathing.

 

“The problem is that I don’t care,” Mal admits, tears falling more freely now. “I feel like we’re drifting apart and it doesn’t even matter.”

 

Carlos slows his breathing and considers facts for a moment. The VKs all arrived at the beginning of the school year, and Mal and Ben started dating only a little while after that. They’ve been together almost seven months. Has it really been that long?

 

“What makes you say that?” Carlos presses, stepping closer again. “Why do you think you don’t care?”

 

Mal looks fragile enough to break, breathing hard with a fat tear hanging from the tip of her nose. When she meets his eyes, she starts crying again, so hard Carlos has to rush to catch her before she topples to the ground.

 

“Oh, Mal,” he says, lifting her a little and helping her walk over to her bed so they can both sit. “Mal, it’s okay.”

 

Mal shakes her head. “It’s not,” she says through her tears, wiping her face. “I..” she starts, but needs to take several deep breaths before she can continue. She says the words slowly, with difficulty. “I think I’m in love with Evie.”

 

Carlos is stunned, so stunned he can do nothing but breathe and blink for a few seconds before he’s alive enough to respond. Did he hear that right?

 

“Everything just feels so right when she’s around,” Mal sobs, falling back onto the bed. “It feels stupid when we leave each other to go be with our boyfriends. I just want her, all the time,” she says. Carlos feels an empathetic barb of pain. “But I can’t ever tell her how I feel.”

 

Carlos frowns. “What do you mean? Why not?”

 

Mal sits up and looks at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? What if I ruin everything? What if she hates me forever? Not to mention _Ben_. He’d be destroyed.”

 

Carlos gets a tight, uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. “Well, there weren’t any real couples on the Isle. People were just sort of together, and sometimes they were together with lots of people and sometimes it was just one,” he reminds her, and knows both of them are silently thinking of Harry, Uma, and Gil. “I don’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

 

Mal shakes her head. “It’s not like that here Carlos, even if I wanted it to be. Ben and Doug don’t understand those kinds of relationships, and besides, I’m a lady of the court now. I can’t have a mistress.”

 

The sentence is so absurd coming out of Mal’s mouth that Carlos barks out a laugh. Mal’s eyes widen and he claps his hand over his mouth.

 

“Mal, I’m sorry, it’s not funny— “

 

But before he can finish, Mal laughs too. And then they’re both giggling, giggling at Mal being a royal lady and Evie being called a “mistress.” But soon Mal’s laughter turns into hiccupping sobs and she’s crying again. Carlos stops laughing.

 

The ten-minute charm tolls, and Carlos realizes that he has missed lunch.

 

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” Mal says, tears still falling. “You can take some of my food with you to eat on the way to class.”

 

Carlos’ eyebrows draw together. “Mal, I can’t just leave you like this.”

 

Mal shakes her head and wipes her eyes, trying to put herself back together. “No, it’s okay. I feel a lot better after having someone to talk to,” she says, nodding. Carlos almost believes her. “Seriously, you should go to class. I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

 

He can’t hide his frown, but knows Mal won’t drop it until he leaves, so he acquiesces, rising to his feet. Mal smiles and does that little laugh she does when she’s trying not to cry, wiping under her eyes like she’s trying to fix her makeup. Carlos sighs.

 

“Are you sure you want me to go?”

 

Mal nods, standing too. “Yeah, seriously. I want a minute to, like, fix my face,” she says, gesturing to her puffy, tear-stained cheeks.

 

She walks him to her door, grabbing a plastic-wrapped sandwich and a bag of chips for Carlos to take with him. Mal holds his hand for a moment at her door. They hug one last time and Mal thanks him with such perfect feeling that Carlos thinks he hasn’t loved her more than he does in this moment. He leaves for Cooperation.


	3. betrayed again (they know, they know)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal pulls everything together, fucks it all up, and fixes it again. Sort of.

The three-minute charm tolls. Mal ignores it, rising to fix her makeup in the mirror. Not too bad, all things considered. Just a little mascara smudged. She hasn’t fallen apart like that since before Cotillion.

 

“Pull it together, Mal,” she says to herself softly, swiping some foundation under her eyes and patting the inflamed skin there gently.

 

She used to hate her name. It was just “M” for a long time, a nickname the VKs continue to call her, because her given name was nothing more than a reflection of her mother’s narcissism. She wouldn’t be a younger version of her mother. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to. Maleficent left big horns to fill.

 

Evie, Jay, and Carlos saved her, she realizes now. She prioritized them first before she even realized that she loved them, before she realized she even _could_ love, asking her mother “what’s in it for us?” when she really meant “why should my friends risk their lives for this?”

 

Because they _were_ risking their lives, or at least their lives as they knew them. They had to go to a completely unknown place and sacrifice their identities to get what Maleficent wanted; it was a heavy price to pay. She didn’t even want to think about the consequences of failure. She still doesn’t.

 

Mal thinks of Carlos and sighs. What a shitty friend she’s been, always running off and worrying about her own stupid problems instead of helping her friends with theirs. Where are her friends when she needs them? Right there, always. Jay, patient and kind, has become the man Auradon has allowed him to be. Carlos was always gentle and sweet, but he’s sweeter now that he is no longer afraid. And Evie.

 

Evie shines like the moon in the sky. She is everything she’s ever dreamed of being and more, and a better friend than Mal could ever ask for. How dare she go and ruin all of that by falling in love with her?

 

All Mal has ever been is selfish. Is wanting Evie like this selfish? Would it crush Doug, if she somehow manages to convince Evie to be with her instead? They’re so good for each other, and who knows if Ben will ever be okay with it. Mal really is evil if she goes through with this.

 

The late charm tolls and Mal swears under her breath, tossing her school things into her bag and rushing out the door. It’s not like she’s never late, it’s just been a long time, what with the months of pretending to be a pretty princess for Ben.

 

Her heart aches at the thought of him, so she pushes him from her mind.

 

Instead, she thinks about what Carlos suggested to her. Evie is always touching her; her hair, her hands, her face, her back, and Mal touches her the same. When Evie looks at her, it’s with perfect feeling. Mal feels herself change in Evie’s eyes, into someone worthy of her feeling. It feels good.

 

But she hasn’t missed the way Evie looks at Ben, too, like she’s yearning for something. At first, Mal thought it was because of Grimhilde’s ingrained lessons of finding a prince to marry, but now she’s not so sure. Evie eyes them both so hungrily, so reverently, like she worships them. What does it all mean?

 

Mal gets to class ten minutes late, and every eye in the room is on her, including Carlos, who smiles at her. That gives her the strength to take her seat, untouched by the judging gazes of her peers and their teacher. No one is ever late, no one except her.

 

She’s past the point of caring, though. Like Evie said, they’ll always be the kids from the Isle. And anyway, Grumpy wouldn’t know how to punish her even if punitive systems were set in place. No one breaks the rules here, and that’s how Mal gets away with it.

 

Grumpy looks at her, frowns, then continues with the lesson, just as Mal predicted. Carlos laughs to himself and shakes his head, looking back to his notes.

 

Cooperation was a class that always used to piss her off. At first it was because she didn’t _want_ to cooperate, with anyone, let alone the stupid goodie-goodie Auradon kids. Now, she hates it because she _does_ want to be better and it’s really sinking in how much hard fucking work that’s gonna take. Really, it’s the worst possible class for her to decide to reenter society with, but Carlos was expecting her so she had to show up.

 

Showing up and paying attention are two different things, though, and Mal’s mind is still consumed with thoughts of Evie, so she pulls out her laptop and drafts a letter to Evie.

 

_Evie – you weren’t my first friend, but you’ve always been my best. My favorite. You taught me how to be okay with who I am and where I come from after I hated myself for so long. We became Auradon girls together, but now something is miss_

 

Mal frowns at the words she’s written, sighs, then smashes the delete key until the document is blank. Why does everything she wants to say sound so clunky and awkward when she puts it on the page? It all sounds so perfect in her head, but the second she writes anything down it just falls apart. Typical.

 

She looks at Carlos again, who is balancing a pen on his nose instead of paying attention, and sighs. Mal isn’t sure he even realizes it, but Carlos is kind of a poet. He’s always scribbling in that notebook, and even though she knows he’d never admit it, Mal is almost certain he’s writing poetry. Maybe after class she should ask him for help in writing her list.

 

Before long, the charm is tolling and Carlos is standing in front of her desk, looking anxious.

 

“Hey buddy,” she chirps, looking at him quizzically.

 

“Hey,” Carlos says. “I know this is stupid and you can just tell me if you don’t have the energy to deal with this right now—”

 

“Carlos,” Mal interrupts him, smiling. “Spit it out.”

 

Carlos frowns and crosses his arms across his chest, perching on the edge of Mal’s desk. “I need you to tell Ben I’m not going to Spring Break.”

 

“What?”

 

Mal stands, alarmed, and slings her bag over her shoulder. “No, no, no, Carlos, you can’t bail now! We’ve had these plans forever!” she whines, taking one of his hands. “Why don’t you want to go anymore?”

 

Carlos looks around, sees that the room is still sort of full, then takes Mal’s hand and pulls her into the hallway. They stop in the drinking fountain alcove.

 

“It’s Jane,” Carlos finally admits, rubbing his forehead in stress. “I feel bad asking Ben to uninvite her but I’m too much of a coward to talk to her and see how things are myself, so I just decided Dude and I shouldn’t go.”

 

Mal scoffs. “I don’t care if you don’t go but at least let Dude come.”

 

Carlos doesn’t crack a smile.

 

“Kidding!” Mal says, placing a hand on his arm and growing serious. “Carlos, I’m kidding.”

 

“Will you help me or not?” Carlos asks, looking dejected.

 

Mal sighs. “Okay, I mean this in the nicest way possible: I don’t think what you’re worried about is that big of a deal.”

 

Carlos pulls away from her and groans, angry. “What do you mean, not a big deal? What about this entire situation is not a _huge_ deal? Jane must be pissed!”

 

“Carlos, she gets it. It’s okay.”

 

“Gets _what_?” Carlos asks, almost shouting. “Why does everyone keep saying that? What does she get?”

 

“That you’re gay!” Mal half-shouts. She claps a hand over her mouth, but the damage is done.

 

Carlos is motionless, mouth hanging open just staring at her in disbelief. Oh, shit. His eyes start darting back and forth between nothing in particular, like he’s thinking really hard. Did he seriously not get it?

 

“Carlos,” Mal says softly, pulling her hand from her mouth. “I’m so sorry—”

 

“I gotta go to class.”

 

Carlos doesn’t even sound like himself, and he brushes past Mal like he can’t even see her. Shit, shit, shit. Was that evil? Is it evil to out one of her best friends to himself just because she wants him to go on Spring Break with the rest of them?

 

Mal rubs her temples, trying to bring herself back, when she hears Evie’s voice.

 

“Mal!”

 

Evie rushes over and pulls Mal into a hug. Mal makes a weird noise in the back of her throat and stiffens up, but Evie pulls away first.

 

“You okay?” Evie asks, brushing her hair out of her face.

 

Before Mal can respond, they hear a familiar scream from down the hallway. There’s some commotion as Dude races down the hall with something in his mouth, pursued by a frantic Carlos.

 

“Carlos!” Evie cries, catching him before he can keep following Dude. “What’s going on?”

 

“Dude stole my notebook out of my backpack and now I can’t catch him,” he pants. At least he looks like himself again. “Please let me go, E.”

 

“What’s the big deal? It’s just one of your notebooks for class, right?”

 

“No, it’s not for class,” Carlos says, impatient. “Not that I wouldn’t be freaking out if Dude actually ate my homework. There’s just, like… personal stuff in there, okay? I don’t really want to talk about it and if anyone saw it I’d die so _Evie_ , can you _please_ either help me or let me go?”

 

Evie catches Mal’s eye and they both nod, following Carlos as he takes off down the hallway once again. Wordlessly, they split, heading down different forks in the hall to cover more ground. It was a classic tactic they kept from their Isle days; you start together, scatter in the middle, then come back when you can. Fast and confusing to anyone trying to tail them, especially because the VKs knew the alleys well. There were a few stragglers in the halls, but most Auradon kids went straight to class. What weenies.

 

The different paths converge outside of Ms. Flora’s classroom, if Mal remembers it right, so she heads in that direction. She rushes tight around one corner and nearly crashes head-on into Uma, who shoves her roughly into the lockers.

 

“Watch it!” Uma barks, and Mal starts mentally preparing for a fight. The second the words leave her mouth, though, she’s shocked and apologetic. “Oh, Mal, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just, you just—”

 

“Uma, it’s cool,” Mal says quickly, wincing a little at the pain on the back of her head. “Look, I don’t have time to talk about this right now. Maybe later,” she offers, rushing forward without looking back.

 

Uma obviously wasn’t trying to start anything, she just reacted the way she has her entire life. There’s nothing wrong with that, and there’s no need for Mal to retaliate, because she doesn’t have to defend her honor in the same way in Auradon. These are things she reminds herself. Mal doesn’t have to be the biggest or the baddest here; she just has to be a good person, and a good person would forgive Uma instead of fighting her.

 

Despite her delay from Uma, Mal reaches the bottleneck first, and just in time to see Dude slip around a corner. She scoops him up quickly, but the notebook is nowhere to be seen.

 

“Where did you put that thing, you little scamp?” Mal murmurs, petting Dude’s head. The truth gummy wore off after a few days, just as she designed it to. As troublesome as it was to have Dude talking, she almost wishes he still could now.

 

What was in that notebook that Carlos was so crazy about?

 

“Dude!”

 

Carlos thunders down the hall, Evie close behind him, but his face falls when Mal turns and he doesn’t see the notebook.

 

“Where is it?” he pants, eyes wide.

 

Mal frowns and shrugs sadly. “I don’t know, Carlos.”

 

“No!” Carlos moans, squatting and holding his face in his hands. He looks like a little boy, curled into a ball, and Mal can see the anguish vibrating in his hands as he curls them into tight fists. The three-minute charm tolls and Mal and Evie look at each other; Evie tells Mal with her eyes that they will not leave him here like this, class be damned.

 

Evie crouches on the ground next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay. We’ll find it, even if we have to search all class period.”

 

Carlos shakes his head. “It could be anywhere. What if it’s _in_ a classroom, and we can’t get to it? _Anyone_ could find it and read it and then—oh god!” he cries, sitting on the floor now and drawing his knees to his chest, hiding his face in them.

 

Mal can’t get over how young he seems right now. She can tell this embarrasses him and that he can’t help it, but it’s shocking. Does he make himself so small because of what Cruella did to him?

 

Better shut that thinking down. Mal goes into problem solving mode.

 

“Okay, what does it look like? Does it have your name on it? We could ask the office to send out a call for it or—”

 

“No!” Carlos says, his head snapping up. “What if somebody found it and read it? Then they’d all know…” he stops, his voice trailing off.

 

“Know what, Carlos?” Evie asks gently, frowning.

 

Carlos looks at them both, and a flicker of fear flashes across his face that is so acute Mal can physically feel it. He stands abruptly and sprints back down the hallway Dude came from, looking around wildly.

 

Dude leaps out of her arms to follow Carlos back down the hallway. At least he doesn’t seem to angry with the little guy. It was an honest mistake. Why would Dude have any concept of what paper he’s eating at any given moment?

 

The late charm tolls. Mal offers Evie her hand, helping her back to her feet while Evie brushes herself off. They don’t speak; there’s nothing really to say.

 

“Thanks for trying,” Mal says finally, feeling sadder than before.

 

Evie sighs. “You too. He’s gonna be okay.”

 

“Yeah,” Mal replies. Evie gives her a quick hug and struts off down the hallway, hurrying to class. Evie is never late. Mal feels a pang of guilt, even though none of this is her fault.

 

She decides to stroll around the halls, effectively ditching class. She’s missed two of her three classes of the day so far; what’s one more? It’s just study hall anyway, and she needs some time to process everything that just happened.

 

Mal turns and starts wandering around, frowning. Usually Evie would kiss her cheek to say goodbye. Did she hug her instead because Mal was acting so weird earlier? Did she somehow psychically know that Mal and Carlos talked about Mal’s attraction to Evie, and was now disgusted by her friend?

 

Eventually Mal finds her way to the dumpsters behind the cafeteria. Uma is perched on top of one of them, pulling on a long cigarette. Uma freezes, Mal freezes, and they stare at each other for a second.

 

“Oh my god,” Mal says finally, taking a step closer. “Where did you get that?”

 

Uma smirks. “Care to join me?”

 

Mal has to stop herself from running.

 

Uma laughs and pulls another cigarette from her pack for Mal, who hops backwards onto the dumpsters eagerly, taking it from her fingers. Mal snaps and produces a small flame, lighting it herself.

 

“Ooh!” Uma croons, knocking her shoulder against Mal’s. “Look at you, evil fairy.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mal says, rolling her eyes and smiling. “Seriously, where did you get these?”

 

Uma shrugs. “Smuggled a carton of my mom’s over with me when I left the Isle, since she can’t get pissed at me out here. It’s not like they searched me,” she laughs again. “I guess they should have.”

 

Mal hums in agreement and puffs on her cigarette, enjoying the rush of nicotine in a pleasant silence.

 

Uma is the first to break the silence.

 

“So, what were you running around for anyway?” she asks, taking a drag and leaning back onto her left hand. “You were coming in hot earlier.”

 

Mal laughs and groans. “Ugh, yeah, sorry again about that.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Uma scoffs, crinkling her nose at Mal. It’s probably the closest thing to claiming responsibility Uma can do, so Mal moves on.

 

“Dude stole Carlos’ notebook out of his backpack and wouldn’t give it back, and now it’s just missing somewhere in the school. Carlos is really freaking out about it,” she sighs, rubbing her temples.

 

Uma takes on a strange expression. “This notebook… is it black and red? Real full and real beat up?”

 

Mal frowns. “Yeah?”

 

Uma turns and rifles through her backpack with one hand, finally producing Carlos’ notebook from it and presenting it to Mal.

 

“Oh my gosh! That’s it!” Mal cries, taking it from Uma’s hands in amazement. She clutches it to her chest and closes her eyes in relief. “He was _such_ a wreck, he’ll be so happy to have it back.”

 

“Glad I could be of service,” Uma says, taking a mock bow and smiling. “Found it in the hallway like right after you ran off. Figured I’d pick it up, just in case.”

 

Mal darkens. “You didn’t read it, did you?”

 

Uma seems a little offended. “No, I didn’t read your boy’s little diary.”

 

Mal narrows her eyes.

 

“Pirate’s honor,” Uma continues, holding a closed fist over her heart. “Seriously, Mal. I swear I didn’t read it.”

 

“Okay,” Mal gives up, shoving the notebook in her bag. “Thanks again.”

 

“Where you going?” Uma asks when Mal hops down off the dumpster.

 

“My room, probably,” Mal shrugs like she wasn’t already thinking about it.

 

“Not _class_?” Uma teases, leaning over and laughing a little.

 

Mal smiles in surprise. Uma is messing with her. _Playfully_.

 

“Isn’t that where _you_ should be right now?” Mal says back, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

Uma rolls her eyes, but her smile slips a little. “Whatever, Princess. You go enjoy your free time playing hooky and I’ll enjoy mine, deal?”

 

She’s acting defensive, but Mal isn’t offended. Instead, she just waves goodbye to Uma and walks back to the girls’ dorms, feeling good.

 

She’s thinking about nothing at all on her walk there, though the worry that she will be caught never strays far from her mind. It’s such a beautiful day outside, it’s silly to spend it locked up in a classroom. She doesn’t even think about reading the journal until her door is closed and locked and she’s sitting at her desk with the notebook open in front of her.

 

It’s beautiful. Long form prose, short rhyming poems, long, winding, lovely free form poems that trace the story of his life and his loves and his pains and his triumphs. It’s better than anything she’s read for any English class she’s ever taken, but every word burns her eyes and stings her heart.

 

Every thought is howling _STOP, Mal, this is a disgusting invasion of privacy what kind of friend ARE you??_ But she just can’t stop. The pages seem to flip themselves.

 

If Mal wasn’t sure Carlos was gay before, the contents of this notebook beyond confirm it. She never sees names, never, but anyone who knows their friends would be able to figure it out. Carlos is _in love_. With _Ben_. He’s at least attracted to Jay, and most of the early pages are about that.

 

Mal’s head spins. She can’t figure out how to think.

 

She checks the clock in her room and swears. It’s 2:35 now. Class is out in fifteen minutes, which means she has exactly that long to pull herself together and figure out how to act like a human being before one of her friends comes to pound on her door and interrogate her about why she wasn’t in class.

 

 Mal shoves Carlos’ notebook gracelessly into her backpack and decides to read until Evie or someone else inevitably comes to check on her. It’s a book they were assigned for class, but Mal can’t make her eyes focus on the words.

 

Evie bursts through the door at 2:55, looking flawless and unruffled even though she certainly must have run to make it back home in that amount of time.

 

“What the hell, Mal?” she says, wasting no time. “Why didn’t you go to class? Ben is freaking out.”

 

Mal groans and slaps her forehead. She completely forgot that Ben was in study hall with her. Recovering, she shrugs.

 

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to work from home today,” Mal says, impressed with how even her voice sounds. Still, it probably won’t be enough to fool Evie, so before Evie can respond, Mal perks up like she’s just remembered something and goes to root through her bag. When she produces Carlos’ notebook, Evie gasps and a smile replaces her scowl. She is unsuspicious once more.

 

“Yes, Mal! Perfect,” Evie gushes, taking Mal’s hand. “Let’s go get him right now, I bet he’s just sulking in his room.”

 

Evie pulls Mal along behind her for a while, then drops her hand when it’s clear Mal is going to keep following her. Like she would ever stop.

 

When they reach Carlos and Jay’s door, Jay is stepping outside.

“You coming over to hang out?” he asks, gesturing to his door behind him.

 

Evie nods. “We have a little surprise for Carlos.”

 

“Well, watch out. He’s super upset and he won’t tell me why,” Jay sighs, shaking his head. “He and Dude are just curled up on his bed.”

 

Carlos peeks over his shoulder when the girls open the door, then looks back into his pillow. Dude is next to him, looking forlorn.

 

“Isn’t this a sad sight?” Mal says quietly, her brows drawing together. “Hey buddy,” she greets Carlos louder, coming to lean at the foot of his bed, notebook hidden behind her back. Evie sits down next to him, rubbing circles in his back like earlier.

 

“Go away,” he mumbles into his pillow, but he doesn’t move away from Evie and there’s no fight in his voice. He just sounds sad.

 

Mal smirks and catches Evie’s eye. “Are you sure you want me to go away when I brought you… this?” she says, pulling the notebook out and holding it in front of Carlos.

 

It takes Carlos a moment to recognize the book in Mal’s hands, his eyes are so swollen and red from crying, but when he does the shift is immediate. A big smile flashes onto his face and then he’s out of bed and on his feet, grabbing the notebook out of Mal’s hands and wrapping her in a crushing hug.

 

“I love you, I love you, I love you!” he cries, spinning her around and kissing her all over her head and face. It’s ironic how like a puppy he acts sometimes. “Where did you find it?”

 

Mal shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Uma found it, and I found Uma.”

 

Carlos blanches, pulling away from her. “She read it, didn’t she?”

 

“No, no!” Mal says quickly, waving her hands. She ignores the burning guilt that ignites her ribcage. “She swore to me she didn’t. Normally I would say not to trust her, but… I don’t know. Something about this time felt different, somehow.”

 

Carlos nods stiffly, but Mal can tell that he trusts her, and that thought is so painful Mal has to sit on Carlos’ bed or she might just keel over. Carlos stuffs the notebook into his bag by his desk and comes to point at Dude.

 

“Dude. Seriously. No more stealing my stuff,” he says seriously, making sure Dude is making eye contact with him.

 

A strange feeling settles over Mal, and she suddenly feels that she’s being watched. When she turns to look at the door, Jay is standing there with his arms crossed, like he’s been standing there watching them for a while. When his eyes meet hers, Mal’s stomach drops.

 

He’s looking at her like he knows something, like he knows she read Carlos’ journal, and Mal is so sure in that moment that he _does_ know that she can do nothing other than stare back and silently plead with him not to tell anyone.

 

Jay looks at her in silence for a long time, then rolls out of the door frame and back into the hall, not closing the door behind him. Mal sees this action for what it is; an invitation, a chance to talk to Jay and explain herself, one final shot at redemption.

 

Mal stays right where she is until dinner. She did not read Carlos’ notebook. If she thinks it over and over, maybe she can act like it’s true. Maybe Jay won’t say anything if she gives him reason to doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely feedback! This story is very special to me, and I can't wait to share more of it with you! If you enjoy what you read or have any questions, please kudos and comment. Thanks so much!


	4. the words get caught in our throats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uma has her first council meeting. Despite Ben's best efforts, it doesn't go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry for the wait, things at work finally picked up which means I've been busier than usual lately. I really want to keep going with this story and have felt very inspired lately, so thank you for your patience! More notes at the end. Enjoy!

On Wednesday, Uma wakes up earlier than her alarm, even before the sun has risen. She lies in bed and watches the light creep across her ceiling, slow and patient, changing from blue, to purple, to pink. Fear is coiled like a viper in her belly. She feels small and alone and afraid, afraid to make a fool of herself at the council meeting today. She’s not used to feeling so out of place.

 

It’s different on the island. People fought and betrayed each other all the time. Things that are considered criminal in Auradon are just expected on the Isle, so it’s easier to recover your relationship with somebody even after you hurt them. Forgiveness comes easier, even though trust is slower to follow. Something tells Uma that screwing up here will get her neither trust nor forgiveness.

 

A few minutes before her alarm is going to sound, someone knocks on the door. She sighs. It better not be Evie again; Uma doesn’t think she can handle any more charity. She rises reluctantly to open it and finds Gil standing there, mugs and thermos in hand.

 

“Hey, Uma! Did you know they have hot chocolate machines in the residence halls?”

 

“Oh, Gil,” Uma breathes, taking him by the arms and pulling him into her. He holds her as best he can, with his hands full, but she can feel his smile on her cheek. She kisses the pulse point on his neck and draws him back to her bed with her.

 

“I thought you might be awake,” Gil says when they sit down, setting up the hot chocolate and pouring some for Uma. “Since the council meeting is today and all.”

 

Uma feels unexpected tears spring to her eyes and covers them with her hand, holding her mug in the other.

 

“Uma, are you crying?” Gil asks softly, settling his hand on her shoulder.

 

Surprising herself, she nods, and leans into his open arms gratefully.

 

This is why she needs them both, both Harry and Gil. Harry could never do something like this for her. He is there for her when she needs to shout and scream and hit something, when she needs to move and fight and break shit. She’s never cried in front of him, and maybe never will. Her tears she saves for Gil. Gil’s the only person who’s ever seen her cry, other than Mal, a fact that still makes her burn inside.

 

Gil’s just simple. Not in a mean way, not that he’s stupid or something, just… simple. Uma and Harry both have so much going inside, roiling and frothing like the sea. Gil is cool and calm, like the waters of a still lake. He brings her peace.

 

After a while, Uma feels guilty enough that she has to ask: “Is Harry awake?”

 

Gil shakes his head. “I told him to go back to sleep. I figured you’d need me right now, and him _after_ the meeting.”

 

Uma smiles and socks him lightly on the arm, punishment for calling her out like that. “Yeah, you’re right,” she admits, sipping her hot chocolate.

 

“I love you,” he says softly, not looking at her. She sees him smile into his hot cocoa mug.

 

Uma leans into him, kissing his bare shoulder. The boy hates sleeves. “Love you too, meathead.”

 

“Do you have a plan for what you’re going to say this afternoon?” Gil asks, resting his head on hers.

 

Uma sighs. “Sort of.” Ben gave her an itinerary and helped her find fancier ways to say things last night. The schedule for the meeting is to discuss the recent revision of tax laws in the Charmington diamond mines, the consequences of rising water temperatures in Atlantica and how those can be remedied, and finally the situation for children living on the Isle of the Lost.

 

“I’m just worried I’m not gonna be able to say what I wanna say,” Uma says. “I don’t know how to talk to these stuffy government people. They all know what I did at Cotillion. I don’t know why Ben thinks any of them would even listen to me.”

 

Gil can only nod. He takes her hand and squeezes.

 

Uma feels tears forming in her eyes again, but this time they’re angry. “What if I slip up and get mad? What if I say something stupid, or swear, or shout, and they just kick me out?” She growls and swipes a tear from her cheek angrily. “I’m scared, Gil,” she says. Her voice is as quiet and small as she feels.

 

“Hey,” Gil soothes, winding his arms around her middle and squeezing. “You’ll be okay. Ben will be with you the whole time. He won’t let any of that happen. He believes in you.”

 

Uma knows what Gil is really saying: that _he_ believes in her, that he trusts Ben to take care of her, that he believes that what she has to say will be important enough that they _have_ to listen. Gil knows how important this is. Every single kid currently starving on the Isle depends on Uma making a good impression. It’s not fair. Uma shouldn’t have to carry them all, but she does.

 

Gil stays for a while, just sitting with Uma and holding her until the sun is in the sky and their hot chocolate is gone. He leaves her with a kiss and more words of love and support, then tells her that Harry said he’d wait for her in her room after the meeting. Uma can’t get over how _good_ he is. This is one of the hundreds of kids President _Beast_ wasn’t willing to give a chance at a better life. It makes Uma sick.

 

Uma picks through her much fuller wardrobe for something to wear. She knows what she would wear on the Isle: something tattered, rough enough to suggest past battles, but not rough enough to suggest losses. Something big and shiny, to show that no one would dare steal from or fuck with her, like her three-point hat. It took her ages to steal all the bits and bobs, hours to sew it all on by hand. She hasn’t worn it once since coming to Auradon. It hangs on her desk chair, a sad reminder of who she once was. Uma looks at it now and frowns. These people will never give her the respect she deserves.

 

Time for new battle armor. She grabs some straight-legged black slacks and a shiny turquoise top that reminds her of her Cotillion dress. Uma snorts at that. The Council will love it. She decides last minute to add a burgundy blazer over top, and ties her hair up into a tight topknot. It’s only been a few days, but she hasn’t seen any other girls in Auradon with box braids. She feels the need to hide.

 

She’s distracted in class all day. Maybe she tied her bun a little too tight, because her head is killing her. Or maybe it’s the stress. Or maybe both. She avoids her people all day, but is proud that she manages to smile back when Harry gives her a cheeky wave with his hook. It was Ben’s idea to petition the school to let him keep it as an accessibility accessory. Harry would have been lost otherwise.

 

Uma pours over her list of topics to cover, crossing things out and adding others, only to cross those out too. It’s maddening. By the end of the school day, this is what she comes up with:

  1. Revisiting some cases of villains on the Isle; reviewing their crimes, their life on the Isle, and petition for probation. (LeFou and Smee come to mind).
  2. Reviewing living conditions for children and proposing solutions. Just removing these kids doesn’t work; they deserve to have livable conditions without having to go through the trauma of being rehomed.
  3. Mental health resources for the VKs already in Auradon from an understanding counselor who won’t judge them for their learned behaviors being raised in a Grey Zone.



 

A “Grey Zone” is one of the new things Ben told her about. When he first had his idea about granting Isle children asylum in Auradon, he wanted to know as much as he could about the Isle. Yen Sid, the only Auradon citizen on the Isle, became something of a scholar in his time living among the rejected and downtrodden, and found a way to explain living conditions on the Isle in a way that citizens of Auradon could understand.

 

Basically, it means that for most human beings, there’s a need to divide social groups into an “us” group and a “them” group. Except on the Isle, it isn’t that simple. It can’t be reduced to victims and bullies; everyone is a victim and a bully, to each other, because they are forced to be. The government of Auradon is the force that holds them all there, not each other, but they hurt each other like it’s their own fault, like that will get them anywhere. It’s like they hurt each other on the government’s behalf, almost.

 

Uma still doesn’t fully understand it, but everything Ben told her made sense, and it seems like something the Council would be able to grasp more than anything Uma would have to say.

 

Ben finds her after their final class period has ended. He must have left early to get here so fast.

 

“Hey,” he says. His expression is calm, but Uma notices the shake in his legs. He’s nervous, too. “Ready to go? The limo’s waiting out front.”

 

Uma nods tightly, avoiding eye contact. Ben surprises her by taking her hand tightly and pulling, forcing her to look at him.

 

“Uma, look at me. You got this.”

 

Uma looks into his eyes and frowns. God, Ben drives her nuts.

 

“Let’s just go,” she grumbles, retrieving her hand and stomping into the hallway.

 

They walk in silence to the limousine waiting to take them to the government building. Uma spares all the glances she dares at the security personnel in the back with them; three guys, two white and one black, with sunglasses on and earpieces in. Nerves tingle in her stomach. She can tell Ben is trying to get her attention, but she doesn’t want to look at him. He’s making her feel… strange.

 

Uma frowns. “Hang on, isn’t Evie a councilor? Shouldn’t she be here too?”

 

Ben sighs and smiles. “You’re only half right. Evie’s not a council member, she’s  _my_ councilor. Basically, she’s an advisor to me personally about matters relating to the Isle of the Lost. She has no sway where we’re going.” He wrinkles his nose at that.

 

Uma smirks. “You don’t like that, huh?”

 

Ben shakes his head. “It’s the rules, but it’s not fair. She knows more about the Isle than any of the people we’ll be meeting with today, but council members are voted on. I didn’t have the votes,” he says, looking tired and older than his seventeen years. “Junior Ambassador to the Isle of the Lost is a title I made up, just for you. We need a VK in there to represent you guys. I did my best.”

 

Uma feels a tug in her chest and rests her hand on Ben’s knee. “Thank you, Ben. I won’t waste it, I promise.” He smiles at her, and they spend the rest of the ride in silence.

 

She clutches her folder in her hands as they exit the vehicle and approach the massive double doors. There’s only a few pages of notes inside, but right now it’s all she has to ground herself. If she can just remember her talking points, she’ll be okay.

 

They walk down the long hallway to what Uma assumes is the meeting room. Thankfully, it’s carpeted, so she can’t hear the echo of their footsteps, a sound that is making her anxious enough as it is. Another suited security guy stops them at the door.

 

“No outside materials,” he monotones, holding his hand out for Uma’s folder. She pulls it closer to her defensively.

 

“What?” Ben asks, incredulous. “She can’t have her notes? Since when?”

 

The man shakes his head. “Apologies, Your Majesty. New policy.”

 

Ben’s nostrils flare, and Uma sees a flicker of the Beast. “As your King, I demand you allow her to bring her folder with her.”

 

It’s a cheap shot, and Uma can tell Ben hates to make it. Still, she allows herself a moment to enjoy how willing he was to sacrifice his reputation for her like that.

 

“President’s orders,” the guard says slowly, like he’s talking to a child.

 

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, calming himself. Delicately, he takes the folder from her hands before shoving it into the guard’s chest, bursting through the doors and pulling Uma along behind him. It can’t be procedurally acceptable, but security seems to be cutting Ben some slack.

 

Thankfully, they find themselves in a small lounge. Uma slows Ben’s purposeful strides and stops, pulling him in close to whisper.

 

“Ben, I need those notes,” she hisses, eyes wide with real fear. “If I don’t know what to say I’m gonna clam up in there.”

 

Ben frowns and takes her by the shoulders, staring into her eyes intensely. “Listen to me: I am going to be right next to you the whole time. I will not let them talk over you or bully you. You have worked too hard to get here, and I’m not going to let them jeopardize that.” He squeezes her shoulders. “We’re a team, okay?”

 

Uma can only nod tightly.

 

Ben’s expression softens. “I promised you that you’d have your say, didn’t I?”

 

Uma can’t stop herself from smiling.

 

“Let’s do this,” Ben finishes, releasing her and going to open yet another pair of double doors. He looks at her expectantly, waiting for the signal to open them, and she nods again. He was right; it’s now or never. Uma’s got this.

 

When the doors swing open, every eye in the room zeroes in on her, except the President, who stares at the notes on his desk. She’s never felt so exposed. Beast sits at a desk raised above the rest of the council, who are seated around a ring-shaped table. For a moment, Uma fears she’ll have to stand in the middle of them for the entire meeting, but Ben takes her elbow gently and steers her to their seats.

 

“You’re late, Your Majesty,” the President says, sounding bored. He peers at Ben over the top of his glasses.

 

“You understand that I don’t decide when school gets out, don’t you, Mr. President?” Ben quips back, not even looking at his father. The rest of the council titters quietly with laughter. Uma feels her stomach drop at the realization that she has no concept of the rules here. She’ll have to tread lightly, to say the least.

 

Councilman Aladdin catches her eye and smiles reassuringly. That’s good, but she can’t trust it yet. No doubt Aziz said something to his father, and while Uma can objectively appreciate the effort, she doesn’t like how much time that kid spends with Gil. _Her_ Gil. Can’t let her guard down just yet.

 

Ben rises, unbuttoning the button of his sport coat and clearing his throat. “Esteemed councilmembers, it is my distinct privilege to introduce to you our junior ambassador to the Isle of the Lost: Uma.” Uma stands and curtsies as Ben instructed her earlier, but feels shaky and strange. The room fills with polite applause. Auradon people really do have a flair for the dramatic.

 

When she and Ben take their seats, Councilmember Aquata speaks up.

 

“And how is Ursula faring, Ambassador?”

 

Uma is thrown by how deeply inappropriate that question is. She can almost feel Ben vibrating with nerves next to her, but remains as calm as she can when she answers.

 

“I wouldn’t know, Councilmember, as I haven’t seen her in sometime,” she says coolly, painting on a bullshit smile. “But how thoughtful of you to ask.”

 

Aquata’s smile slips into something more like a grimace and she narrows her eyes. Uma beams back at her. Stupid mermaid bitch thinks she can fuck with Uma? Not today. Two can play at that little passive-aggressive political bullshit game. Looking around the room, Uma can tell by the looks on their privileged faces that every single council member underestimates her. Their mistake.

 

This feeling doesn’t last long. From the moment they start the meeting, each passing statement reveals more and more to Uma just how completely out of her depth she is. Everyone in the room is talking about subjects she’s unfamiliar with using words she either vaguely recognizes but doesn’t know or things she swears she’s never heard in her entire life.

 

Her anxious eyes are tethered to the ancient-looking clock hanging above the door. They’ve been going over on every single topic, getting trapped in little bickering arguments or caught in semantic technicalities. She wipes the sweat from her upper lip. What if they talk so long they don’t even get to the Isle business today? Uma soothes herself by repeating her talking points like a mantra in her head: appeals for probation, improving living conditions, mental health services. Over and over and over.

 

Finally, _finally_ , with only thirty minutes to spare, the council addresses the Isle of the Lost.

 

President Beast delivers to the council a brief summary.

 

“Councilmembers, as I am sure you are all aware, the integration of the first four children from the Isle some seven months ago has been a modest success. It is for that reason our young Ambassador is joining us here today,” he says, only barely managing to curb his obvious distaste. “She and three other students have been invited here from the Isle per the King’s request, but he has recently proposed that this relocation program is no longer a viable solution. King Ben will say a few words on the matter,” he finishes, gesturing to Ben. Beast seems ready for the meeting to end.

 

Ben rises with a nod to his father. “Thank you, Mr. President. Councilmembers, I realize my father has called for me to speak, but I feel ill-equipped to speak on this subject. For that reason, I turn my time over to Ambassador Uma of the Isle, who will speak on my behalf. Please note this change in the official record,” he says, making eye contact with the scrawny-looking stenographer, who nods at him. Ben sits and gestures for Uma to rise.

 

Uma stands shaky on her feet, and scans the room. Expressions range from bored to irritated to incredulous. She hasn’t even started speaking yet and she is completely unheard.

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” She clears her throat. “Esteemed, um, members of the council, my name is Uma and I’ve lived all seventeen years of my life on the Isle of the Lost.” Her voice sounds strange in her ears. Weak. Small. She shakes her head to clear it and continues. “It is a horrible place. I grew up in dangerous and dirty conditions and, um, suffered abuse both at the hands of my mother and, um,” Uma stammers, catching Aquata’s eye at that comment.

 

She should be more confident, but it feels like the oxygen is being sucked from her lungs. “Abuse on a systemic level as well,” she finally finishes, releasing a breath. The words feel foreign in her mouth, too formal. “Whatever you think our parents, the villains, deserve, there’s nothing on the Isle to protect the kids who are innocent of their parents’ crimes—”

 

“Innocent?” Councilmember Florian interrupts her. “I’m sorry, you honestly expect us to believe that these kids never engaged in crime on the Isle?” He turns to address the rest of the council. “That _this_ girl has never engaged in criminal behavior?”

 

Uma feels her mouth flapping open and closed like a fish, but she can’t think of the right words to form. She’s too shocked and offended to speak.

 

Ben chimes, direct but polite. “Councilmember Florian, with all due respect, I hardly think petty theft and criminal mischief is comparable to reckless abuse of magic and murder.”

 

That shuts Florian right up, as well as any of the council members who might have agreed with him. Uma could kiss Ben she’s so grateful.

 

She works off of his momentum. “That’s right, Ben—I mean, Your Majesty. Kids on the Isle have no choice but to commit crime, or risk being targeted or even killed for not joining in. It’s literally dangerous not to be a ‘criminal’ on the Isle,” she concludes, adding air quotations for emphasis as she has seen some of the other councilmembers do.

 

President Beast rubs his eyebrows, not even bothering to hide his exhaustion at this point. “I don’t see how that supports your argument, Ambassador.”

 

Bastard. Uma just smiles at him. “I was getting to that, if you’d let me finish, Mr. President.” Ben stifles a laugh with a cough. “While I am very grateful that I was welcomed into Auradon, I think a solution on the Isle itself is a better option for this government. Instead of making these kids live through the trauma of relocation, I think—”

 

“So sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Councilmember Shang interrupts her, raising his hand. “Did you say, ‘the trauma of relocation?’ What is that supposed to mean?”

 

Uma stops herself from sighing with great effort. It feels like the right time for some frank honesty.

 

“Look, like I said, it has been a great privilege to be able to come to Auradon, but things are different here. Every day, me and the other villain kids are under pressure to act like everyone else here, even though we never learned how to be like that. It’s uncomfortable and frustrating and, um…”

 

“Demoralizing,” Ben offers quietly, looking far off into the distance like he’s deep in thought.

 

Uma feels herself nodding. “Yeah,” she says, looking back at Councilmember Shang. “There are over 500 children living on the Isle of the Lost, in the same or worse situations than I was. While it might seem like a good idea to take them out of that, um, situation, moving them so fast can be really bad for them. Auradon is so different—”

 

President Beast holds up his hand, interrupting her again. “Ambassador, if I’m hearing you correctly, what you’re saying is that these children are all criminals and will integrate poorly into our society. Is that correct?”

 

Uma can feel the frustration rising in her chest like bile, and it’s getting harder and harder to swallow her pride and let these people keep interrupting her. She clenches her fist behind her back and locks eyes with the President.

 

“No, Mr. President, I wasn’t going to say that. If you’d just let me finish—”

 

“It just seems like you’re having some trouble articulating yourself very clearly,” he says, smiling a slimy smile that Uma is sure Ben wants to smack right off his face. Condescending jerk.

 

Uma smiles back with as little venom as possible. “I could articulate myself more clearly if I were not constantly interrupted and was allowed to bring my notes,” she replies with vicious diction, leaning to rest her hands on the table in front of her. “I noticed you referencing yours several times throughout this meeting, Mr. President.”

 

It was true; virtually all of the councilmembers had notes of some form in front of them on their tables, and the President was no exception. The President doesn’t bite.

 

“That was a matter of security, Ambassador,” he says simply, shrugging his shoulders like the whole thing was out of his control.

 

“Was it?” Uma snaps, far too angry. The effect of her tone is immediate, and she can feel the discomfort ripple through the room. She regrets the breach of conduct immediately.

 

The President glances at the clock and closes his folder on the table with a slam. “If you can’t keep your composure, Ambassador, I’m afraid this meeting cannot continue.” He rises, buttoning his suit. “Councilmembers, break into your committees. We’ll talk solutions next week. Meeting adjourned.”

 

Uma glances at the clock too, and sees that they were only minutes away from the end of the meeting anyway; President Dickhead just wanted to use their final moments to make her look back. The thought makes Uma irate.

 

Ben shoots out of his seat, alive with angry energy. “Dad!” he bellows, fists clenched at his side. This breach in decorum would have caused more of a stir if Ben’s father didn’t immediately respond.

 

“ _Benjamin_!” Beast roars back, staring at him like the conversation was over. The rest of the council sits in stunned silence, waiting for whatever scene was about to unfold.

 

Ben is so pissed off he can barely breathe. His face is flushed red with furious blood, and he looks both like a man and like an angry little boy. Unceremoniously, he grabs Uma’s hand and rushes them both out of the room, sticking his middle finger right in the face of the security personnel at the door. Uma has never seen him act anything like this.

 

They stomp through the building and straight out the door, forgoing the limo in favor of the curated forest just behind the government building. Uma’s head feels like it’s full of churning sea water.

 

What just happened? She didn’t get a chance to say even half of what she wanted to. Every point she made was cut short and derailed so badly she couldn’t even get to a single one of her talking points. Ben’s freak out was another matter entirely. Did she just ruin everything?

 

She closes her eyes for a moment and allows Ben to guide her. She focuses on his hand around hers, strong and confident. They’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys!  
> Uma mentions something called the "Grey Zone" in this chapter, which is a real-world sociology concept. It was conceived by a man named Primo Levi, a Jewish Italian writer that survived Auschwitz during the Holocaust. The concept was originally intended to describe social behavior of prisoners in concentration camps, but has since been developed to describe many types of living situations, prisons and communities living in deep poverty among them, so I felt it appropriate to include here. It's a deeply fascinating concept, and his writing is both beautiful and powerful, so I definitely recommend doing more research on your own. Feel free to message me if you have any questions or want some links to resources to get started!  
> Again, thank you for reading. Please comment and kudos if you enjoyed!


	5. we know not what we say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay discovers some things about Hunter, and Ben and Uma recover from the council meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! This chapter is just a super short snippet because I've been feeling really inspired lately and I feel bad leaving this story for so long. Hopefully this will tide you over before things get really wild ;) Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

It’s the first pre-season Tourney meeting before the end of the year, and Jay is very, very late. Well, not _very_ late, but much later than he would like. In Auradon, you show up on time. That is how you show respect, and Jay deeply respects Coach Jenkins.

 

It sucks that he’s late, but it’s not like it’s his fault. Okay, it’s sort of his fault. He and Lonnie were messing around before he had to leave and got into one of their little arguments. Jay didn’t want to leave her angry, so he stayed as long as he possibly could to try and smooth things over before bolting out the door.

 

They’ve been fighting a lot lately, and it’s always about stupid little crap that doesn’t really matter. He hates arguing with her, but Evie’s Auradon gossip mags say it’s normal to start getting into little fights at around this stage in the relationship. Not that Jay… reads those, when he’s in her room. Or that he and Lonnie are in a relationship. Or that he’s worried about it. At all.

 

They’ve only really been hooking up for a few months, but Lonnie is cool, and Jay likes her. It’s better than his brief fling with Audrey, and he and Jordan have too much baggage to ever really “work” together, even though she’s crazy hot. Chad was a great lay, but the boy is way too high maintenance and _way_ too much drama.

 

The sound of jogging footsteps behind him makes Jay turn. It’s Hunter, the Huntsman’s son, who also appears to be late for the meeting.

 

“Hey, Jay,” he says conversationally, falling into step beside him. “Late too, huh?”

 

Hunter is incredibly handsome, with his messy dark hair and well-defined jaw, but there’s something just… off about him. Something too clinical about the whiteness of his teeth, something too detached about the way his smile barely meets his eyes. He says all the right things, the things you’re supposed to say, but it’s the way he says them that is so off-putting to Jay.

 

Feeling bad about thinking that way about someone is kind of a new thing for Jay. Now, he feels mean when he thinks someone is creepy for seemingly no reason. On the Isle, that was just common sense. If someone was strange or gave you a bad vibe, you had to stay away or risk finding out why. On Auradon, _everyone_ seemed untrustworthy and strange, at least at first, because they all acted wrong.

 

Jay wants to give him the benefit of the doubt.

 

“Got into an argument with Lonnie,” he says, shaking his head. “Didn’t want to leave her angry.”

 

Hunter nods knowingly. “Probably a good call. I fell asleep after class,” he laughs. It’s very manufactured.

 

They arrive at the locker room ten minutes after the meeting was supposed to start. Jenkins sighs and shakes his head, gesturing for them to join the rest of the team, then continues talking about their training schedule and some new plays he’s working on. Jay has to suppress a groan; that small display of disappointment was only the beginning of what was to come. He stands in the back with his arms crossed, silently wondering how many laps he and Hunter would have to do.

 

After the meeting, Jenkins dismisses the rest of the team and waves Jay and Hunter over. Jay makes brief eye contact with Carlos, who looks both apologetic and like he wants to laugh at him.

 

“Alright boys, you know the drill,” Jenkins sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You can’t just come in late like that, especially as two of our most valuable players.”

 

“Won’t happen again, Coach,” Jay responds immediately, looking down. He sees Jenkins hide a smile.

 

“Hunter?”

 

“Honest mistake, Coach,” Hunter says, appropriately apologetic.

 

Jenkins nods, humming thoughtfully. “Alright boys. I want you both to go clean out the storage in the old racquetball room. Head on over there now.”

 

The boys nod and start to walk away. Hunter goes on ahead and Jenkins takes Jay by the upper arm, pulling him in close.

 

“This is out of character for you. You doing okay?” he asks quietly.

 

Jay nods, a little surprised, and says nothing.

 

Jenkins nods back. “Good. You guys can go ahead and go home after forty-five minutes. I’m not that mad,” he says, winking and smiling.

 

Jay smiles back easily. “Thanks, Coach. Have a good night.”

 

Jenkins releases him and heads for the door. “You too, Jay. Stay out of trouble!”

 

Jay is a little angry, but not at Coach. He’s angry at himself. He wants to be reliable, someone Coach feels like he can trust to show up and get the work done. It’s important to him that people trust him. He’s not a thief, not anymore.

 

He gets to the store room and gets to work with Hunter. The room stinks and the air is full of dust. No wonder Coach wanted them to clean it up a little bit. Musty old cardboard boxes are piled high, scattered around the room, buried between old or broken workout equipment from the gym.

 

Every box Jay moves or opens smell like stale ass. He touches at least four hundred dead bugs. He’s so absorbed in his work that it takes Hunter three tries to get his attention.

 

“Dude, _Jay_ ,” Hunter says, waving him over. “You gotta come look at this.”

 

In front of him was a huge box piled high with old tourney jerseys. On the very top, there was one that read “Jenkins, 8.” It’s Coach’s old jersey. The cut and colors are mostly the same as their jerseys now, just a little more old-fashioned. Jay smiles to himself. This must be from one of the first few years that Auradon Prep was even open.

 

“You and Coach had the same number,” Hunter says, crossing his arms. “Cool, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Jay replies reverently, taking the jersey in his hands. Hunter continues cleaning, but Jay feels like he can’t move just yet. Impulsively, he tightly folds the jersey and stuffs it into his bag to keep. He and Hunter have uncovered a real treasure. How could he pass that up? It’s not like it’s _real_ stealing; no one will know that he took it, and it’s not like anyone will miss it. If Coach asks, he can just give it back. No big deal. He’ll hang it in his room, a reminder of the kind of man he wants to be.

 

They get back to work, and once again Jay is absorbed in his task of sweeping, dusting, and organizing. He registers dimly that Hunter is talking to him, so he makes sure to throw out a few noncommittal noises every few words to make it seem like he’s listening. Eventually though, Jay starts to really hear him.

 

“These people just suck, you know? This whole place sucks. All these spoiled rich assholes and their snobby parents,” Hunter snarls, shoving a box with his foot. “Sometimes I just want to burn this rotten place to the ground.”

 

“Whoa,” Jay says, brows drawing together. What the fuck?

 

Hunter looks surprised. “What?”

 

“Bro, what are you saying?” Jay rises to his feet and takes Hunter by the arm. “That’s messed up.”

 

Hunter tries to shrug him off, but Jay holds tight. “What’s the big deal, Jay?” Hunter says, looking angry. “You’re from the Isle, don’t you hate these yuppies too?”

 

There. That was what Jay has been seeing in Hunter this whole time, some festering darkness lurking just below the surface. Violence shines in his eyes as clear as day, and for the first time, Jay feels sure that Hunter is someone to be feared.

 

Jay sighs, trying to remain calm and helpful. “You don’t get it, man. You don’t know what this place means for someone like me.”

 

Something in Hunter shifts. “Sometimes I wish my dad had been sent to the Isle like the rest,” he says, his voice and face disturbingly expressionless. “Old bastard deserved it. Sometimes I wish I were there instead of here.”

 

Jay drops his arm, angry. “Don’t— you don’t even know what you’re saying right now,” he hisses, pushing the anger down as far as it will go. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

 

Hunter just stares into his eyes. His face is blank, and his eyelids hang heavily. Then, he laughs. The sight is so bizarre that Jay takes a step back.

 

“You know what? Forget this, I’m not listening to this anymore,” Jay says, grabbing his bag and hoping that the shaking in his arms isn’t too noticeable. “You can finish by yourself. I’m out of here.”

 

Jay walks quickly back to his room, trying to shake off the oppressive unease that hangs heavy on his shoulders. Should he tell an adult about what just happened? Also, what the _hell_ just happened? Hunter is clearly seriously not okay, but Jay isn’t convinced he should tell anyone just yet.

 

First of all, he’s afraid of Hunter, but second of all, he doubts his own perception. What if Hunter is just some edgy, Isle-romanticizing asshole? He wouldn’t be the first Jay had ever encountered. Plenty of Auradon kids started wearing more leather and talking about how cool the Isle is after the first VKs came here. How could Jay know this was any different than that? He wasn’t about to snitch on a kid just being dumb.

 

When he gets back to his room, he decides not to tell on Hunter, but to just keep a closer eye on him from now on.

 

Carlos is there when he opens the door, tinkering with his 3D printer. “Hey, how was cleaning?”

 

Jay remembers his weird interaction with the rest of the VKs yesterday. There’s no way Mal missed his offer for her to admit she read Carlos’ notebook, just like there was no way she _didn’t_ read that notebook. She may be able to lie to the rest of them, but she can’t lie to Jay. As much as he wants to tell Carlos, it’s really none of Jay’s business, and he’s not going to cause any more harm to the two of them than absolutely necessary. Besides, the truth always comes out eventually. The best thing he can do is be there for Carlos when it does.

 

Jay shrugs. “Fine.”

 

* * *

 

Ben is pacing a rut into the dirt of the forest, but he just can’t stop moving. His head is still buzzing with anger, and he’s scared if he stops he’s going to scream. Uma sits quietly on a fallen tree nearby, looking almost a little bored. Ben is breathing hard, and every time he thinks he’s calmed down enough to say something, he thinks of something else that sets him off again. He wonders if he’s ever been this angry in his entire life.

 

After a few more minutes of this, Uma sighs. “Ben, seriously, it’s fine.”

 

“ _No_ ,” Ben says loudly, shaking his head. “No, it is _not_ ‘fine.’ Not one part of what just happened is ‘fine.’ I can’t _believe_ they all treated you like that, that my _father_ —” Ben has to stop himself, too angry again to continue.

 

Uma shrugs with glum acceptance. “I can. Honestly, that’s about what I expected.”

 

Pain is written over her every feature, and the sight breaks Ben’s heart. “I know, and I don’t care. It doesn’t make it right,” he says, finally stopping to rest a hand on his hip and pinch the bridge of his nose. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do before the next meeting. If we want—”

 

“Hold up,” Uma interrupts him, rising from the log and standing in front of him. “’Next meeting?’ There will be no ‘next meeting.’ I’m not going back in there, no way.”

 

Ben groans in frustration, grabbing his hair and dropping to one knee. He takes both of Uma’s hands in his. “Uma, _please_. I know it’s awful and I hate how they’ve treated you, but the kids on the Isle need you,” he begs. In a smaller voice, he adds: “ _I_ need you.”

 

Uma smiles at that, the first real smile he’s seen from her all day. “King Benjamin, are you hitting on me?”

 

Ben blinks in surprise and rockets to his feet, brushing off his pants with awkward hands. “No!”

 

Uma is visibly taken aback by the intensity of his denial, but she’s still smiling.

 

“Oh, _no_ , not like that! I mean, of course you’re smart and beautiful and brave so it’s not like I _wouldn’t_ hit on you, it’s not like I’m not attracted to you _but it’s not that I am!_ I’m, I,” he stumbles, growing louder and louder with every word before he stops himself to take a deep breath. “No, I am not hitting on you.”

 

“Jeez, Ben, you need to relax,” Uma laughs, eyes wide. She’s looking at him like he’s a very funny insane man.

 

Ben shakes his head and takes her hand again. “Uma, I’m sorry I got so mad,” he says quietly, finally feeling better. Ben looks at her then, really looks, and makes a decision. “You know what? Screw planning for the next council meeting, I’m missing it anyway. You should come on Spring Break with us.”

 

Uma is so shocked she pulls her hand away. “What?”

 

Ben nods, feeling even more confident in his request. “Yeah, and bring your boyfriends too. It’ll be fun. Forget this stupid government stuff for a while and come to the beach with me.”

 

Uma looks undeniably charmed, and Ben can tell she’s happy that he acknowledged her relationship with Gil and Harry. Her expression falters a little.

 

“It’s at your family’s beach house, though, right?”

 

Ben frowns. “What’s wrong with that?”

 

Uma shrugs. “It’s just, I don’t know. Won’t it piss your dad off if I go stay at his house or whatever?”

 

A slow smile spreads over Ben’s face and he laughs. “Yes, yes it will.”

 

Uma smiles at that, but still looks unconvinced.

 

“Seriously, it’ll be fun. Don’t you miss the ocean?” Ben asks.

 

Her face lights up before she can stop it, and Ben knows he’s won. Just to play it cool, he nods toward the path they came down earlier.

 

“Fine, you don’t have to decide right now. I know it’s super last-minute. Let’s just head back to the limo and go back to campus, alright?” he says, smiling.

 

Uma nods silently, clearly still thinking about his offer.

 

Before they get far down the path, Ben stops her again. “Oh, and Uma?”

 

“Yeah?” she replies absently.

 

“I’m really proud of you,” Ben says seriously, his smile falling away. “They fought you every step of the way and you never gave up. You were so brave. I’m really glad you’re here.”

 

Uma stiffens, and it’s obvious that the praise makes her uncomfortable. “I swear Ben, you’d think I still had you under a love spell. You don’t stop talking like that and I’m gonna have Harry come hook you after all.”

 

Ben laughs and Uma rolls her eyes, but he can see her smiling too. They brush shoulders as they walk back to the car. Ben’s anger is still there, but it feels different now. It’s colored by something else, something new. He feels hopeful.


	6. the break (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal discovers something about Evie, and the VKs and their friends go on Spring Break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Finally got done with the outline for the rest of this story, and I'm SO excited for you all to read it. Here comes the beginning of the end. Please comment and kudos if you enjoy!

Mal flops onto her bed in a huff, chucking her book for Literature wherever it lands and groaning into her blankets. She’s been trying all afternoon to get her reading done, but she just can’t force herself to focus. Who cares about school when her entire life is a gigantic disaster?

 

The stress of knowing Carlos’ secrets is eating her alive, and she has absolutely no one she can talk to about it. Her mind is racing with the knowledge that Carlos, her friend Carlos, sweet, silly Carlos, is in love with her boyfriend. _He’s in love with him, and I’m not_ , she thinks to herself mournfully, grabbing her pillow and burying her face in it. What kind of shit is that?

 

Breaking her reverie, Evie breezes through the door, singing some random melody quietly to herself. Mal wants to cry; Evie is _so_ beautiful, and Mal loves it when she sings. Now it only makes her more depressed.

 

“Ugh, today was such a whirlwind,” Evie says, not waiting for Mal to ask. “I have _so_ many new orders coming in for prom coming up before school is over. I guess it’s lucky that Auradon Prep has so many fancy-dress events, but this is going to be so much work without Doug helping me as much anymore.”

 

Mal frowns at that. “What? Why isn’t he helping you anymore? Is he going somewhere?”

 

Evie looks at her, briefly unable to hide the sadness in her expression before she recovers. “Wait, did I not even tell you? Oh, my _goodness_.”

 

Mal sits up straight, feeling like someone stuck a steel rod in her spine. “Tell me what?” she asks slowly, confused. Her heart is beating like a hummingbird’s in her chest.

 

Evie sighs, then perches gently on Mal’s bed. “Doug and I… broke up, a few days ago.”

 

Mal can’t disguise her shock. “You _what_? And you forgot to tell me?” She is genuinely hurt.

 

“Mal, I know, I’m sorry,” Evie says, taking both of Mal’s hands in hers. “I’ve just been so swamped with school and _4 Hearts_ orders, I just completely forgot.”

 

“It’s okay,” Mal says quickly, though she definitely isn’t over it yet. She runs her fingers gently down Evie’s back, like she knows she likes. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Evie smiles sadly at her. “I’m doing okay. It was mutual, mostly.”

 

Mal says nothing, waiting for her to continue. She coils one of Evie’s blue hairs loosely around her finger, tying them together.

 

“We just weren’t giving each other enough,” Evie continues, like Mal knew she would. “We weren’t being as kind or as patient as we should have been, and neither of us were willing to spend time with each other anymore. It was just… a natural end, I guess. If that exists.”

 

Mal’s frown deepens. “Evie, I’m so sorry. You guys were so good together, I thought.”

 

Evie’s expression falters a little, and Mal can see the tears welling up in her eyes. “Yeah. We were,” she says shortly, clearly unable to go on unless she wants to cry.

 

“Oh, honey,” Mal says softly, winding her arms around her friend’s shoulders and holding her tight. They sit, rocking back and forth gently for a while, before Evie catches a tear on her manicured finger and sighs.

 

“It’ll be okay,” she sniffles, smiling at Mal. “We’re still going to be friends, it will just take time. He isn’t coming to Spring Break anymore.”

 

In her head, Mal hears a chorus of angels singing. A marching band stomps through her heart, playing music that swells and shouts like the glorious feelings leaping inside of her right now. Yes, yes, _yes_! YES! Now she can have Evie all to herself!

 

Can’t make _that_ sentiment known. Instead, she nods in understanding and rests her chin on Evie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, E. I know that will be hard.”

 

It’s not like Mal is lying, necessarily. It _will_ be hard for Evie, especially since other people in romantic relationships will be present, and Mal wants to support her in that. The fact that she’s been hoping and wishing beyond all hope that this would ever happen is something that no one, especially not Evie, particularly needs to know.

 

Evie glances at the clock and tisks. “Oh, shoot, I forgot about a meeting with a client. I’m sorry Mal, I gotta go.”

 

Mal shrugs and smiles, trying to make it seem calm and easy. “It’s okay, just make sure you text me if you need me, okay?”

 

“Ugh, thank you so much, M,” Evie sighs, leaning in to plant a kiss on the corner of Mal’s mouth. It’s thoughtless, a simple gesture of affection that probably meant nothing to Evie but makes Mal’s head spin like a top. She doesn’t even register Evie’s short goodbye as she whisks out the door again she’s so distracted by the tingling on her lips.

 

She lies on her back and lets herself daydream. It’s dangerous, she knows, to let her mind wander like this. Carlos’ notebook was evidence enough of that. Soon, imagining just isn’t enough. That’s when poetry and desperate pining comes into play, and Mal is too proud to afford that type of behavior.

 

She imagines kissing Evie’s thin neck and hearing a musical moan leave her painted lips. Evie’s red fingernails dragging over Mal’s pale skin, leaving angry, passionate marks in their wake. Their clothes scattered through their shared room, torn off while they are both blind with desire. Her blue hair wild on Mal’s pillowcase. Her bright eyes, shining with joy. Beautiful, too beautiful to touch.

 

Mal has to stop herself; it hurts too much, and it feels too good. She longs for the time when thoughts of Ben rolled through her mind like that, when his touch set her skin alight. It was simpler then. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. Everyone was happy.

 

Why did everything have to get so messed up? Why can’t Mal ever appreciate good things while they last, without fucking ruining everything? Things always fall apart and it seems like it’s always Mal’s fault. Spring Break is going to be a complete disaster.

 

* * *

 

It’s finally Spring Break, and Gil is _so_ excited he can barely contain himself. Ben borrowed a limo from his parents’ fleet, and he and Mal sit in the front while Harry, Uma, Gil, Evie, Jay, Carlos, Lonnie, and Jane ride in the back, listening to music, eating candy, and talking about stupid stuff. They haven’t even got there yet and Gil is already having the time of his life.

 

There wasn’t quite enough room in the trunk for all of their bags, so Gil sits with his in his lap. It’s not like he had that much to bring anyway; Jay offered to let him use some spare trunks, which was nice of him, since Gil’s are years old and probably too worn and broken to really serve their purpose anymore.

 

Harry strokes his thumb in slow circles over the back of Gil’s hand. He’s been pretty quiet for most of the drive, but he wears a small, lazy smile, so Gil knows he’s happy. Uma is looking pretty stormy, but Gil suspects she’s a little angry that she had to take her braids out.

 

She’d never admit it, but her braids are pretty important to her, especially here in Auradon. It’s a clear symbol to anyone that looks at her that she’s not like them, that she’ll never be like them, and she won’t apologize for it.

 

“I just don’t want to waste vacation time waiting for them to dry out,” she’d said one night before they left, sighing and leaning back into her pillows. “I want to be able to swim without waiting for twelve hours for them to dry.”

 

In the end, she asked Dizzy to uninstall them for her. She may be young, but she’s trustworthy, from the Isle, and probably knows more about textured hair than any hairdresser in Auradon. It’s not like Uma was going to ask Audrey who she sees.

 

So now Uma has her hair in two French braids. She looks tired. Even if Gil and Harry hadn’t “slept over” last night, it isn’t surprising to Gil that Uma didn’t get much sleep. She never sleeps when she’s nervous, and if the bags under her eyes are any sign, she must be really nervous.

 

Under the cover of their new friends’ overlapping voices, Gil leans across Harry to talk to Uma.

 

“You okay, Captain?”

 

The sound of her old title makes her crack a smile, and she nods. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Thanks, Gil.”

 

Harry smiles at him and kisses the corner of his mouth affectionately. It makes Gil’s chest flood with warmth, and he can’t even care about how disgusting they’re being right now in front of everyone. The original VKs all clearly don’t care; it wasn’t any stranger than a couple showing PDA. Unconventional relationships were no big on the Isle.

 

Jane and Lonnie look scandalized, to say the least, Jane more than Lonnie, but Gil doesn’t care. This week is a perfect opportunity for them to learn about how things work for Isle kids, and Gil is more than willing to help them.

 

Finally, the limo pulls into the drive of a massive house right on the beach, and the ten of them spill out of the car, stretching their legs and groaning.

 

“I think that might be the longest limo ride of my entire life,” Jay groans, stretching his neck and yawning.

 

“Oh, come on, it was only like two hours,” Jane says, nudging him with her shoulder. “That’s nothing.”

 

Jay smirks at her and nudges her back. “What, you think we took many road trips on the Isle?”

 

Jane’s expression grows serious and she backtracks immediately. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

 

Jay laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders playfully. “Jane, I’m messing with you. It’s okay.”

 

Jane seems to relax a little and smiles back at him, and the rest of the kids unload their bags.

 

“If the rest of this vacation is going to be this nauseating, I’m swimming home,” Uma grumbles, tugging her duffle out of the trunk. Harry pecks her on the temple, saying nothing, but Gil smiles and shakes his head.

 

“These are our friends now, Uma,” he says gently, taking her hand. “If you’re not sick of them by the end of this week, I’ll owe you anything you want, I promise.”

 

Uma rolls her eyes, but squeezes his hand back. “Yeah, yeah, meathead, as if you don’t give me everything I want as is.”

 

They pour into the foyer and take it all in. Ben’s vacation house is _nice_ , maybe even nicer than their school buildings. It looks old too, like it’s been in his family for generations. Probably has. Gil makes a mental note not to touch anything unless Ben says it’s okay. Even though they are sort-of friends now and they’re on vacation together, it doesn’t mean Gil isn’t still trying to make a good impression.

 

“Okay guys, the guest rooms are all upstairs,” Ben says, dropping his bag and propping his sunglasses up on his forehead. “The room at the front is for me and Mal, but you guys can have whatever rooms you want. There are more than enough.”

 

Immediately, Jay and Carlos are thundering up the stairs, shoving and tripping each other to get ahead, arguing over who gets what as if they’ve ever seen the place before. Gil, Harry, and Uma ascend the stairs after them, intertwined with each other. Uma seems happy, probably because the ocean is so close, but Harry seems quiet. Gil makes another note to talk to him once they get a moment alone.

 

The three of them end up finding a big, bright room with a king bed in the middle of it, the perfect size to fit all three of them. Gil runs and jumps into it right away, sticking out his arms and legs to look like a starfish.

 

“Oh, man,” he groans into the mattress, running his hands over the silk bedding. “Gil likey.”

 

Uma snorts and drops her bag near the chest of drawers by the door, coming to join him on the bed. “Guess there’s perks, being besties with a king.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Gil agrees, rolling onto his back and pinching Uma’s tummy. “We’re gonna sleep so good tonight.”

 

“Oh, is _that_ what we’re gonna do in this big beautiful bed?” Uma laughs, pinching him back. They wrestle back and forth for a while, laughing and tickling each other, while Harry closes the door of the attached bathroom and locks it silently.

 

Gil and Uma pull apart.

 

“Okay, he seems weird to you too, right?” Uma asks in a low voice.

 

Gil nods. “Want me to talk to him?” He knows she’s eager to get into the water.

 

“Ugh, Gil, you’re the best,” she says, pulling him in tight and planting a big wet kiss on his neck. “I’m gonna change into my suit and get out there with everyone. You’ll meet us when you’re done?”

 

Gil nods, and Uma practically leaps off the bed, shucking her clothes. She had her suit on underneath the whole time, the silly thing. Gil doesn’t recognize it; it’s a sleek, gold one piece with high-cut legs and a very low back. Uma looks stunning.

 

“Wow,” he breathes, staring at her.

 

Uma smiles and gives her butt a little wiggle. “You like? It’s one of the pieces Evie gave me.”

 

“Yes, yes I do like,” is all Gil can say. Uma kisses him again then races out the door, calling down the hallway for everyone to “get a move on” because she has “swimming to do.” Gil hears Ben’s laugh echo down the hallway, and he smiles.

 

He approaches the bathroom door and gives it a tiny knock. Harry doesn’t respond.

 

“Harry?” he calls, knocking again. “You okay?”

 

After a moment, Gil hears Harry’s muffled voice through the door. “S’fine.” He sounds… congested? His voice is thick and weird.

 

“Harry, will you let me in?” Gil tries again. The door won’t budge. “Everyone’s going out to the beach.”

 

Gil waits for what feels like a long time before the lock finally clicks and he can open the door. When he steps into the bathroom, Harry is sitting on the edge of the tub with swollen, red eyes. He sniffles and swipes at his face, clearly trying to hide it.

 

“Oh, Harry,” Gil says softly, closing the door and kneeling in front of his boyfriend, placing both hands on either knee. “What’s wrong?”

 

Harry sniffles and looks away, angry. “I just can’t hide it, you know? We’ll be out here a week with this lot, I can’t… be _normal_ that long. They’re gonna think I’m a freak.”

 

Gil frowns. “What? Why would they think that?”

 

“Because, Gil!” Harry insists, twisting his hook nervously in his hand. “Because I— because I need my hook, and I make bad jokes, and I say the wrong thing _every time_ , and I get angry, and I curse and I shout—”

 

“Harry,” Gil stops him, cupping Harry’s face in his hand. He catches another tear on his thumb as it drips down Harry’s cheek. “You don’t think Ben knows that? You don’t think most of these people don’t know that? Why would he invite you if he didn’t like who you are?”

 

Harry shrugs and looks away again. “I dunno, because he likes you and Uma? S’not like you’d go without me.”

 

Gil shakes his head. “Well, if they like us then they have to like you too, or we’ll just leave. We love you Harry, all of you, even the loud and angry parts, hell, _especially_ the loud and angry parts. That’s what makes you who you are.”

 

Harry says nothing, unconvinced.

 

“Bet you these Auradon kids have never drank with a pirate before,” Gil says, smirking. “What do you say we show these preps how to have a good time?”

 

That earns Gil a smile. Harry leans over to unzip his bag, and produces a massive bottle of his father’s old scotch. “This’ll burn their eyebrows off.”

 

“You seadog,” Gil laughs, leaning in to hug Harry. Harry returns the gesture.

 

“Thanks, matey,” he mumbles into Gil’s shoulder, and Gil holds him tighter.

 

“Anytime,” he replies simply, releasing Harry. “Now, let’s get changed and get in the water, okay?”

 

Harry nods, and the boys get dressed and head down to the beach.

 

Evie is there, setting up towels and a beach umbrella for her and Mal to lounge under. Carlos and Jay are fighting in the water, splashing and dunking each other over and over. Jane and Lonnie are doing underwater flips and handstands, catching each other’s feet and giggling at the water that goes up their noses. Uma is just swimming circles around all of them, eyes closed with how good the water must feel, and Ben is messily applying sunscreen near Evie and Mal. He looks a little tense, for whatever reason.

 

“Race you to the water!” Gil says quickly, shoving Harry while he’s distracted.

 

Harry shouts and sprints after him, and the two of them reach the ocean at almost the same time. Gil opens up wide for a belly flop, and Harry leaps and curls into a cannonball. When they resurface, Gil sees that the splash must have been colossal, because everyone around them is dripping.

 

“Yeah!” Jay calls, waving at them. “Join the party guys!”

 

Everyone in the water soon joins in for a game of beach volleyball, half in the water and half out for an extra challenge. Ben, Uma, Carlos, and Harry are on one team, and Gil, Jay, Lonnie, and Jane are on the other. It’s a pretty tight game, but in the end, Gil’s team ends up victorious. The four of them huddle together in their victory, hollering and swaying to a song of their own composition. It’s mostly out-of-key nonsense, but it sounds like a symphony in Gil’s ears.

 

“No, no way, I want a rematch,” Carlos declares, retrieving the ball from the water. “This time Jay and Lonnie are both playing ocean side.”

 

Jay shrugs and looks at Lonnie. “He never learns, does he?”

 

Lonnie smiles back, bright and happy. “Guess we’ll just have to smoke ‘em again, huh?”

 

“I can hear you!” Carlos shouts through cupped hands.

 

It’s on. Sand is flying, there are probably too many dramatic dives, and Gil can hardly breathe between the exertion and laughing so much. When his team sinks yet another victory, this time forming a kick line, he takes a moment to soak it all in.

 

This is maybe the youngest, freest, and happiest he’s ever felt. Gil never knew life could be this way. They were out of school, so there was no pressure for homework or quizzes or studying, and they were away from parents. For once in his life, he was free to just have fun and be young. Before he can stop them, there are tears in his eyes.

 

“Yo, Gil, did I kick some sand in your eye?” Jay asks, breaking the kick line to take Gil’s shoulders, examining his face. Gil shakes his head and grabs Jay, pulling him in for a big bear hug.

 

Everyone “aww”s and laughs, Lonnie kicking water up at them, but Gil doesn’t even care. He pulls apart from Jay and claps him on the shoulder.

 

“I’m so glad we’re here.”

 

The smile Jay gives him back is warm and real. “We’re glad you’re here too, buddy,” he says. “Now what do you say we kick their asses a third time?”

 

“ONCE AGAIN, I CAN HEAR YOU!” Carlos bellows, waving both arms for emphasis, and everyone laughs. They play, they laugh, they dive into the water. It’s everything Gil dreamed and more. He almost wishes this day would never end, but he knows tonight will only get better. He thinks of Harry’s scotch. Things are going to get wild.

 

* * *

 

 

After the third morose sigh, Evie cannot take it anymore. She puts down her book and takes off her sunglasses, looking at Mal.

 

“M, what is up with you?” she questions, frowning. “That’s three heavy sighs from you and it’s only been an hour. Are you okay?”

 

Mal won’t look at her. She’s flat on her back on a towel, presumably staring at the underside of Evie’s beach umbrella, but Evie can’t see through Mal’s dark glasses.

 

 

“I’m good, just tired,” Mal says, itching under her high bun. The words leave her mouth so fast that even if Evie didn’t catch the obvious lie, it would have seemed suspicious.

 

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it,” Evie says simply, feigning returning to her book and crossing her legs on her lounge chair. “I just thought I’d ask.”

 

“I’m jealous of Ben and Uma,” Mal acquiesces immediately, like Evie knew she would, covering her face with her arms in embarrassment.

 

Evie’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “You are?”

 

Mal props herself up on her elbow, taking off her sunglasses. “Are you kidding? Look at them! They’re swimming and playing and, like, I don’t know, having fun!”

 

“What’s stopping you from having fun?” Evie asks, folding her hands delicately over her book. “I can help you put some sunscreen on.”

 

“No, E, I can’t swim,” Mal grumbles, frustrated.

 

Evie’s brows draw together in sympathy. “Neither can Jay or Carlos. It’s not a big deal, Mal, just don’t go out too deep.”

 

Mal huffs and frowns, employing her sad puppy face in full force, only it’s definitely more of a grumpy puppy than usual. It’s obvious that this isn’t really what’s bugging her, but Evie knows better than to keep digging if Mal isn’t ready to talk or listen. Still, it doesn’t hurt to push a little.

 

“I know you want to go out there,” Evie says gently, resting her hand on Mal’s shoulder. “But it’s okay that you feel like you can’t. I’m here. We don’t have to talk, we don’t have to do anything, but I’m here.”

 

This seems to soothe Mal, and she frowns, looking a little teary before she rests her head on Evie’s thigh, facing the water. Evie plays with the loose hairs curling around the base of Mal’s neck and watches the tension ease out of her back bit by bit, staring with her shoulders until she’s relaxed from the top of her head to the base of her spine. It’s an old ritual of theirs, something Evie used to do when Mal showed up at her window with tears streaming down her cheeks, jaw clenched so tight with distress that it took half an hour for her to calm down enough to even say what her mother did this time.

 

“I don’t want to lose you, Evie,” Mal whispers, running a finger down Evie’s shin.

 

Evie frowns and sits up, resting her hand on Mal’s head. “Lose me? What on earth are you talking about?”

 

When Mal turns around, there’s fat tears rolling down her cheeks, and her lip is wobbling.

 

“Oh, honey,” Evie says, placing her book down properly and holding her arms out for Mal. Mal enters them gratefully, perching on the side of Evie’s chair and leaning heavily into her arms, weeping silently. “Mal, Mal, it’s okay.”

 

“It’s not okay,” Mal insists thickly, sniffling and shaking her head.

 

“Do you want to go inside?” Evie suggests gently, eyeing the rest of their friends on the beach. No one seems to have noticed, except for Ben, who is staring right at them until Jane absolutely nails him with the volleyball, right in the face. It takes every drop of self-control Evie has not to laugh.

 

Mal shakes her head. “Can I just sit with you?”

 

Evie nods. “Okay,” she says, petting Mal’s hair.

 

After a while, everyone else seems ready to go in. Evie makes sure to catch Jay’s eye and wave them all away. Jay ushers everyone past the girls, making sure no one looks too long or stops to bother them. Ben lingers, just a little, but Evie shoots him a look and he relents, following the rest of them inside.

 

The sun starts to set, and Evie scooches over so Mal can join her on the chair. They’re both pretty tiny, but it’s definitely a squeeze, so their legs end up tangled together or they’ll both fall off. Just like back home, when they’d lie in Evie’s bed on long nights spent wishing for something better.

 

“I think I can go in now,” Mal says finally, sounding sleepy. It's perfect timing, really, because the first few drops of rain are just starting to fall. Looks like a storm, soon.

 

Evie feels a surge of affection swell in her heart. “Okay,” she says simply, waiting for Mal to move to get up, which takes a few minutes. “Let’s go in and help make dinner, yeah?”

 

Mal nods, and she really does seem better. She’s still bothered, clearly, but at least Evie could give her a moment of peace. Hopefully things would be alright for the rest of the night.


	7. the break (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids play a drinking game and the truth comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Hope you're enjoying the story so far, and I hope you don't hate me too much for the content of this chapter. Everything will work out okay, I promise. Comment and kudos if you enjoyed! I appreciate all of your feedback so much. Thank you for reading!

“Alright, lads and lassies,” Harry says after dinner, rejoining them in the wide living room. “Let me teach you all how to truly get naughty.”

 

Uma, Gil, and Jay all helped to shove the couches and coffee tables to the walls of the room, leaving the middle of the carpet free for all of them to sit in a circle. The storm knocked out the power in the middle of dinner, so Ben and Evie combed through the entire house in search of candles. In the end, they found a bunch of emergency candles and a camping lantern to light the space. It looks really fun and neat, but Mal still just can’t get into it.

 

Carlos scoffs at Harry. “What, you think the punk VKs never got drunk?”

 

Harry smiles at him and winks. “Not like this, you haven’t. This is 57 year-old scotch, little puppy,” he finishes, patting Carlos on the head as he sits down next to him on the carpet. Carlos shoves him playfully, and they smile at each other.

 

Is this a dream? Even _Harry and Carlos_ are palling around and having fun right now? Is Mal broken or something? She _loves_ drinking games. This should be her zone, but she just can’t get into it. She doesn’t have the energy right now to examine why, and besides, the game is about to start. No time.

 

“Alright, this is a little game my mateys and I like to call ‘Drink the Truth,’ and it goes like this,” Harry explains, pouring a shot for himself before passing the bottle around. Pretty much everyone except for Mal and the pirates, who are taking straight shots, will be sipping mixed drinks. “Like ‘Truth or Dare,’ this is a group game where each round is between two people. It is a game of assumptions. So, for example, I will start by saying: Gil, your favorite food is eggs.”

 

“Correct!” Gil confirms, downing his shot and making a sour face. “Oh shit, Harry, you weren’t kidding about this stuff.”

 

Harry nods and laughs. “I did warn you. Now, back to the rules: since my assumption about Gil was true, he drank. If, however, you make an assumption that is not true, _you_ as the accuser must drink.”

 

“Right, like if you said my favorite food was salad,” Gil adds, nodding as well.

 

“Aye, precisely,” Harry says. “Last rule is that there are no _questions_ in Drink the Truth, only _assumptions_. If you ask your assumption like a question, that’s two shots or sips for you, understood?”

 

Everyone around the circle nods, and Mal feels excitement and fear twisting around in her belly. The game sounds really fun, but it also sounds like it could turn vicious at any moment. They’d all have to be careful, especially since they all had so much weird baggage with each other. Mal begrudgingly reminds herself that she shouldn’t be too mean to Uma if she calls on her.

 

“Gil, you’re up,” Harry says, gesturing to Gil with his hook.

 

“Ooh, right, okay,” Gil replies, shaking his head. “Crap, I gotta think of a good one.”

 

Their friends in the circle laugh and whisper to each other while Gil thinks.

 

“Oh, I got it! Ben,” Gil shouts, pointing at the boy in question. “You think you’d be a better President than your dad.”

 

Without hesitation, Ben knocks back a huge gulp of his mixed drink. “I’ll fucking drink to that,” he gasps when he comes back up for air, and the kids all cheer. Mal feels a little scandalized. Did Ben just say _fuck_?

 

“Nice one, Gil,” Harry laughs, clapping his partner on the back. “Alright, Your Majesty, you’re up.”

 

Mal is torn between wanting Ben to pick on her and being absolutely terrified at what he might say. Now is so not a good time for her to be playing this game; she’s way too sensitive right now, and even though she’s sitting snuggled up close to Evie, she’s not sure she’d be able to handle anything too direct.

 

Turns out, she’s worried about the wrong thing, because Ben turns to Uma and smiles.

 

“Captain Uma, you’re the best swordsman on the Isle of the Lost.”

 

Mal uses all of her brainpower to stop herself from flaring her nostrils. Ben and Uma are friends, and he is allowed to say nice things about her. Mal doesn’t have to make it weird.

 

Uma smirks and takes her shot. “I’m not technically on the Isle anymore, but I’m trying to get drunk.”

 

Everyone, even Mal, laughs at that.

 

Uma wastes no time, zeroing her eyes on Carlos immediately. “Carlos de Vil, you’re a virgin.”

 

Mal and Evie give a synchronized gasp, while most of the boys let out a chorus of “oohs” at Carlos’ beet red face. Slowly, he takes a tiny sip of his drink, and everyone around the circle flips out, laughing and shouting at Carlos’ admission. Oh, okay. Mal can see why this game would be fun now. It’s like, playfully embarrassing your friends in a safe, accepting environment. Mal can be cool with that. She can.

 

“I may be… a virgin,” Carlos mutters, pretending he’s less embarrassed than he is. “But Lonnie!” he points dramatically, smiling again. “You _wish_ you had my dance moves!”

 

Lonnie gives an exaggerated gasp and laughs. “Oh, you got me! You’re right!” She sips her drink and laughs again. Mal feels a little flicker of jealousy. Lonnie is way cooler than she has any right to be.

 

Lonnie needs a moment to think, so the rest of the kids buzz and sip on their drinks, talking amongst themselves until she shushes them all.

 

“Jane!” she shouts, clearly already a little tipsy from the wine at dinner. “You’ve been waiting to kiss me all day.”

 

Jane’s mouth falls open into a little round “o,” and her cheeks flush bright red. Everyone in the circle shouts and cheers, and soon they’re all chanting “do it, do it.” Jane and Lonnie crawl across the circle to each other, meeting in the middle and giggling into a small kiss. Mal still thinks this is weird, and she won’t forget that she won’t have fun, but _wow_ this is cute.

 

The girls sit back down and the game continues.

 

“Um, Harry,” Jane says shyly, still blushing a little. “You’re really proud to be a big brother.

 

Harry smirks and pretends to think about Jane’s assumption before he drinks. Uma looks at him with stars in her eyes, and Mal feels a little sick. Gil shakes him by the shoulders and the circle laughs.

 

“Enough, enough,” Harry grumbles, faking annoyance through his smile. “Jay, I could beat you in an arm wrestling match.”

 

“Oh, you’re _so_ on,” Jay says, already crossing the circle on his knees. The boys lie flat on their bellies and clasp hands. Harry has his hook in the other, and a cocky smile on his lips. They grunt and fight for a while, but eventually Harry bests Jay triumphantly. Jay catches Mal’s eye, and she knows immediately that he must have let Harry win. It was obvious that Harry’s pride was shaken when Jay bested him on the Isle. It was kind of Jay, to let him win.

 

Maybe because Mal saw the truth, when Jay sits down he looks at her.

 

“Mal,” he smiles, nursing his drink. “You secretly think it’s funny that I fed your mom a cigarette butt.”

 

Mal fake gasps and furrows her brows. “Jay! I cannot believe you!”

 

Jay and Carlos crack up, leaning back they’re laughing so hard.

 

Evie wrinkles her nose and smiles at Mal, and Mal finally rolls her eyes and goes to take her shot.

 

“I don’t even want to know where you found that thing,” she says before tossing back her drink and scowling at the burning in her sinuses.

 

“I knew it!” Jay declares triumphantly.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mal coughs, waving him away. “Ugh, god, Harry, this is awful.”

 

Harry beams and wiggles his head. “You’re welcome!” he sing-songs.

 

Mal sits and thinks, hard. Everyone’s have been pretty playful so far, but where was the fun in that? This isn’t Truth or Dare; they’re not _really_ here to make each other say who they have a crush on or make each other perform strange sex acts, they’re here to learn about each other. Time to force a shift.

 

“Evie, you miss your mom.”

 

The effect of Mal’s words on the room are immediate. Lingering laughter dies away, and the air in the room is thin and serious.

 

Evie breathes deeply, then takes a sip of her drink, smiling at Mal like _it’s okay_. “You’re right, I do miss her. I think about her a lot, wondering how she is.”

 

“I miss my dads,” Gil admits quietly, swishing his drink in his hand and looking at the ground. “I know maybe I shouldn’t, but… it’s hard.”

 

Evie smiles sadly at him, nodding. “Okay, Gil: You want me to design you and Harry something just like I did for Uma.”

 

Mal can’t fight the happiness that swells up inside her as Gil’s face lights up. He nods eagerly, pounding a shot and smiling back at Evie.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

Mal catches Uma and Evie sharing a look, and remembers that Evie planned to lie to Uma, saying that what she brought over were just some scraps and leftover demos. Evie was both making an offer and revealing a truth that Mal is sure Uma already knew. Still, the moment is powerful.

 

“Uma,” Gil says, looking at his girlfriend with an unreadable expression. “You’re afraid to admit that you’re happy here.”

 

Uma stares at him, half shocked and half _pissed_ , not moving to take her drink. The group waits, but Uma doesn’t have anything else to say. She holds her shot ready, but doesn’t move to take it.

 

“It’s okay, Uma,” Ben says after a while. “You can admit it. We both know there’s still work to do, but you’re allowed to be happy. You’ve been through enough.”

 

Uma looks at him thoughtfully, then pounds her shot, growling at the burn in her throat. Jealousy rears up in Mal’s chest, and she tries to push it down. She’ll have to talk to Ben later, because this is just getting ridiculous. Why can he validate Uma’s struggles but not Mal’s? Tears sting at her eyes.

 

“Fine,” Uma says finally, staring at Ben. “You’re glad I captured you, back on the Isle.”

 

Mal is too enraptured with Ben’s response to be angry (yet). Ben stares at Uma, then takes a big swig of his drink, coughing a little when he’s done.

 

“I learned a lot, that day. Saw how you lived, saw how you were treated,” he recounts, running his hand over his wrists like he can still feel the rope there. “I owe you for that, still.”

 

Uma snorts. “First time anyone’s ever owed me for kidnapping them.”

 

“And hopefully the last,” Ben adds playfully, and they laugh, maintaining eye contact while they sip their drinks again.

 

Mal wants to scream. They’re seriously _flirting_ right now? Right in front of her? What the hell is this? Evie seems to sense Mal’s anger and takes her hand, holding it with light pressure in case Mal wants to pull away. She doesn’t. She takes Evie’s hand in hers and squeezes, too ashamed to look at her.

 

Ben thinks for a bit. “Carlos,” he starts, finally taking his eyes off of Uma to look across the circle. “You’re really brave for coming on this trip with us.”

 

Carlos blushes again and stares down at his drink. “I- I don’t know if I can drink to that.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Jane says, setting down her drink. “Carlos, I know it must have been so hard for you to still go after everything that happened. I bet you were so stressed out, but I’m so glad you’re here. You’re strong.”

 

Carlos looks suddenly like he might cry, and he takes a drink so fast that some of it drips down his chin.

 

“Jane, I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you,” he blurts, breathless. “You didn’t deserve that. I should have treated you better.”

 

Jane sighs and puts a hand on her chest, visibly touched. Mal is impressed. She didn’t expect Carlos to actually voice his feelings. Maybe the liquor is helping. If that’s true, then Mal won her bet with Jay that Carlos would finally talk to Jane only after he was drunk. She’ll have to collect on that later.

 

“Carlos, my wee pup, your apology was beautiful,” Harry starts, holding his hook to his heart in playful mockery of Jane. “However, it was not an assumption. You broke the rules; drink twice.”

 

Carlos just laughs and shrugs, using his drinks as an opportunity to blink back his tears. Mal’s heart hurts. She can’t help but love him.

 

“Jane, dear, the floor is yours,” Harry says when Carlos is done drinking.

 

Jane gets a strange sort of look in her eye, scanning the room. Mal sees what she saw that day all those months ago when she manipulated Jane in the girls’ bathroom: Mal has given Jane permission to break her own rules.

 

“Lonnie, you’re afraid you won’t live up to your mom.”

 

Lonnie is shocked, then smiles, nods, and takes a sip of her drink.

 

She turns to Harry. “Harry, you really want things to work with Tiger Peony and Darling.”

 

Harry looks shocked. “How’d you know about all that?”

 

Lonnie shrugs. “Tiger Peony and I are in a student group together. Besides, it’s Auradon Prep; people talk.”

 

Harry seems to accept this answer, and takes his shot. Tiger Peony and Darling are Peter Pan’s kids, right? What is the son of Hook doing with them? Mal is curious about what’s going on, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to ask.

 

“Carlos,” Harry says, clapping a hand on Carlos’ shoulder. “You think you’re a coward, but you’re not.”

 

Carlos opens his mouth to respond, but he laughs nervously and looks away, shy. He shakes his head, still unable to form words.

 

“Oh, come on, drink,” Harry insists, wrapping his arm around Carlos’ shoulders and giving him a shake. “You deserve it, go on.”

 

The rest of the group is shouting encouragement, and Carlos takes a drink, probably just to shut them all up. Mal wants to be happy for him, but it’s hard right now. No one will be able to tell her that she isn’t a coward, because then _they’d_ have to drink. She’s just a shitty person.

 

Carlos clears his throat and glances nervously at Harry. “Thanks,” he says softly before turning to Jay. “Jay, um, you wish Coach Jenkins was your dad.”

 

Jay’s entire body tenses immediately, and his knuckles are clenched so tightly they’ve turned white. He looks like he’s trying not to cry as he lifts his cup to his mouth and takes a drink. Mal watches him clench and relax his jaw a few times before he speaks.

 

“Yeah, I do. But more than anything, I wish my dad was just _better_.”

 

The VKs all look at their feet or their drinks, nodding in quiet understanding. Jane and Lonnie look a little uncomfortable, but they honor the silence and let it breathe. Evie looks at Mal and raises Mal’s hand to her lips, planting a light kiss there. Mal squeezes her hand back, then rests her head on Evie’s shoulder. They’re all just sad kids, trying to their best to escape their parents’ legacy.

 

“I’m sorry, Jay,” Ben says.

 

Just as Mal is about to roll her eyes, Jay turns to Ben and points. “Ben, you think you know what we’ve been through on the Isle and you just don’t.”

 

Mal is speechless, and so is Ben. Uma barks a laugh, then covers her mouth when Gil shushes her. Harry leans back on his hands, excited grin stretched wide over his face, ready to see what happens next. Everyone else looks baffled.

 

“I- Jay, I—” Ben sputters, looking helpless. Mal hates herself, but it feels good to watch him squirm. She regrets the thought almost immediately when Ben turns to her. “Mal, you know I get what you’ve been through, right?”

 

Mal pulls away from Evie, offended. “Ben, what?”

 

Ben looks confused. “I do, right?”

 

“Are you joking?” Mal spits, rising to sit up straighter. She’s trying to keep a lid on it, trying not to blow up at him in front of everyone, but he isn’t making it easy. Mal starts to worry there’s no calm way out of this conversation. Ben has no idea what he’s started.

 

Ben shakes his head. “Mal, I- what? No, I’m- I—” he stammers, trailing off like he’s realized he has nothing to say to defend himself.

 

Mal can’t hold it back any longer. If she tries, she’ll die. “Ben,” she says, starting to cry. “I have spent every day for the last seven months feeling absolutely misunderstood.”

 

Ben’s expression doesn’t change. He still doesn’t get it.

 

“By _you_ ,” Mal adds. Ben’s face falls, and the sight only empowers her to keep going. “You have no idea what I went through and how it still affects me every single day I spend in Auradon.” The tears are falling freely now, and she knows it’s too much, that she shouldn’t keep going, but if she doesn’t let it out she’ll explode.

 

“Every time anyone even says my _name_ , it reminds me that I’ll never, ever get away from her,” Mal sobs, choking on the words. “That I’m rotten.”

 

Ben shifts, leaning towards her. “Mal, I—” he stops himself like he realizes how stupid it is to call her by her name after what she just said. He shakes his head and continues. “Mal, I had no idea you felt this way—”

 

“ _How_?” Mal shouts, smacking the carpet with her hands. “How, Ben, when you saw everyone else here? Why can’t you just _see me_?”

 

A tense silence settles over the space, and Mal feels a stone pit sitting heavy in her gut. She’s embarrassed that they’re fighting in front of everyone, but she’s so desperate she can’t even bring herself to care. Ben better say something good, right now, or Mal doesn’t know what she’ll do.

 

“Mal, as the King of Auradon, it is my responsibility to understand and mitigate the—”

 

“ _Stop_ talking like that,” Mal snarls, rising to her feet. “This is not a council meeting.”

 

Ben stands too and looks helpless, and that makes him angry. “Mal, please. Can you just calm down? You’re making a scene.”

 

Harry is on his feet in an instant, staring Ben down. “The fuck did you just say, mate? That she should ‘calm down?’”

 

Ben looks around the circle, eyes wide, begging for help. “I- I brought us all out here so we could have _fun_ ,” he argues lamely, frustrated.

 

“Well, I’m not having fun,” Mal says, crossing her arms.

 

“Well, why can’t you?” Ben bellows back, turning away from Harry. “Why are you so _selfish_?”

 

“Ben,” Evie gasps, rising to stand as well. She holds her hands out, trying to defuse, but it’s too late.

 

Ben’s words strike Mal like a physical blow. She takes a deep breath, then goes in for the kill without stopping to think about it.

 

“Oh, great. _Fine_. If I’m so terrible, why don’t you just break up with me then?” she cries. “Carlos has a crush on you, he’ll be waiting with open arms.”

 

Everyone in the room takes a second to register what Mal just said, Mal herself included. Oh, shit. Oh, _shit_. Oh no. She looks at Carlos desperately, sorry, but the hurt look on his face tells her that it’s too late.

 

“You lied to me, Mal?” he asks softly, looking as small as Mal has ever seen him.

 

“Carlos,” she sobs, covering her face with her hands. “I’m sorry.”

 

Mal runs from the room, tears blinding her. She sees Ben move to stop her, but Harry takes him firmly by the upper arm, shaking his head. Mal has to get out of here, _now_. She can’t take one more second in this house, with these people. She has to go.

 

* * *

 

Evie tries her best to breathe and stay calm. She knew it, she _knew_ there was something fishy about Mal’s story. Finding the notebook with Uma, acting so strangely when she gave it back. Evie should have done something. She should have said something, but she didn’t, and now it’s too late.

 

Jay is the only one who has stayed calm, the only one who seems unsurprised at this development. Evie narrows her eyes.

 

In the chaos after Mal rushes out of the room, Harry is holding Ben tight, looking like he’s ready to rip him into ribbons.

 

“Haven’t you done enough?” he mutters in a low voice, anger clear and quaking in his tone.

 

“Carlos,” Jane says, rushing to his side to comfort him. “Carlos, I’m so sorry.”

 

“No, don’t, Jane,” Carlos brushes her off, rising to his feet. He’s shaking. “We need to go find Mal before she does something reckless.” At that, he bolts out the door after Mal.

 

Everyone scatters, and Evie makes a beeline for Jay, grabbing his wrist and holding him there.

 

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Evie whispers, staring him down. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Jay shakes his head, angry. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Eve. I made my choice: I chose to stay out of it, and that included telling you. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

 

Evie deflates, releasing his wrist. He’s right; Evie has no right to be angry with him over that. Each of them was trying to make the right choice with the knowledge that they had. How can she blame him for that?

 

“I’m sorry,” Evie murmurs, walking away before Jay can respond.

 

As she leaves the room, she can’t stop herself from addressing Ben, who is standing just next to the door frame.

 

“How could you say that to her right now?” she demands, hands on her hips. “How dare you call her selfish, knowing what that would do to her?”

 

Ben says nothing. He looks sorry, but it isn’t enough, it isn’t _right_.

 

Evie frowns in disgust. “Do you even know any of us at all?”

 

Ben blinks like she’s slapped him, but Evie doesn’t care. She rushes out of the room and down the hall, searching for Mal. That’s her top priority right now. Ben’s feelings don’t matter. She needs to know that Mal is okay.


End file.
